Baby Nostalgia

Posted by Yoga Bynum

Where did the summer go? For that matter, where have the past five years gone? It seems like only yesterday I was a new mother navigating my way though sleep depravation. Now I have a bright, energetic five-year-old daughter starting kindergarten next week.

My little girl is no longer a baby. She’s a kid. (She’s pointed that out to me on several occasions.) I promised myself I won’t cry when I drop her off for the first time, but I know better.

Sometimes I miss the baby days. I spent the afternoon with friends yesterday, and one of them had her six-month-old son in tow. He was a cutie, and he giggled when I made funny faces.

Then I discovered he was smiling because he pooped all over his car seat. My warm fuzzy feeling was replaced by the smell of baby poo.

I realized I’ve got it pretty good. My kid can take herself potty, I get a full night’s sleep, and every day, I get the best hugs ever.

Random Thoughts

Posted by Yoga Bynum

I wasn’t a mixed-up Momma this week, but I was certainly a really busy one. I’m not sure where the week went. There were some things happening this past week that I’ve wanted to blog about, but clearly I did a bad job of making time for it. So here’s a list of really random thoughts.

Green Eggs and Ham. E is learning to read, and she wanted to join the library’s summer reading club. For every 12 books she reads, she earns a prize. We got a late start (surprise, surprise), so now we are scrambling to finish the second tier with only a few days left. She picked out Green Eggs and Ham at the library earlier this week. I hadn’t read that book since I was a kid, and I don’t remember it being 62 pages. What the heck was Dr. Seuss thinking? It took nearly an hour for her to get through that. You know I marked credit for two books.

Daycare Negotiations. Yesterday morning, I watched a mother stand on the parking lot and beg her two-year-old son to go into the school. “What’s wrong? Why are you angry with me? You have to talk to Mommy. Get your feelings out.”

Really?

My mom would have snatched me out of the car and dragged me into the school kicking and screaming. And I know I’ve left my kid there crying when she’s in one of her moods. Everyone has their own style, I guess.

Greasy Fried Chicken. Hubby forgot that I was working late. When I got home, I thought I smelled fried chicken. About 20 minutes later, I heard the telltale click my oven makes when it’s been on for a while. He left dinner warming for me. Fried chicken from the worst fried chicken chain on the planet. I was about to put the food away, but I wanted to show my hubby that his kind gesture wasn’t for naught. I ate a small piece out of gratitude, and I was rewarded with indigestion for the next 18 hours. Note to self: Go with the first instinct.

Try Harder. To all my sistas who are well endowed, please know that you cannot leave the house without a bra. That option just is not for you. And you certainly shouldn’t sit in the front of my class with your shirt open. It will not score you any extra credit points. As my friend’s mother used to say, “You have to try harder.”

That’s all I’ve got for now. Catch you later!

Mixed-up Momma

Posted by Yoga Bynum

Some days I just get it all wrong. I acknowledge it happens to the best of us, but it’s hard to make a comeback when you have a string of fails Monday through Friday. Here’s my week:

1. Business-trip botch-up. I was in Chicago to set up a conference this past weekend. At 1 p.m. on Sunday, a staff member asked me for the attendee name tags. I checked the UPS tracking number, and it turned out they were still in STL because the mail room missed the UPS pick up. After a scramble to have them reprinted at Kinko’s, I remembered the IT guy was bringing them in the truck with our computer equipment.

2. Mad dash for class. I started teaching a new class this past Thursday. I left my day job, battled the Cardinals game-day traffic, and made it to the satellite campus in Earth City with minutes to spare. Just as I was congratulating myself for a drive well done, the campus director told me my class was downtown. That’s quite convenient, as my nine-to-five was within walking distance.

3. Arkansas round-up. I was glad to see this week go, so I toasted its farewell with a honey wheat beer during a department happy hour. I also took a quick trip to the mall to check out the sale at my favorite store. My mother-in-law called me as I was on my way home.

“What time will E be ready tomorrow?” she asked.

“Ready for what?”

“Arkansas. We leave in the morning.”

“Say what? I thought that was next weekend!!!”

I checked the clock. 9:30. I had a stack of mismatched clean clothes and a list of things to purchase for her trip. I called my husband and gave him laundry detail. By some miracle, I busted some cornrows in E’s hair and packed 6 outfits by 10:45. Hubby made a midnight run to Wally World to get the rest.

So now, I’m decompressing. It’s Saturday (at least I think it is), my daughter is on her way to Arkansas, and I’m getting a much needed hair cut. Next week will be better, I promise!!!

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

The War on Squirrels

Posted by Yoga Bynum

Dear Squirrels:

You too have benefited from my good graces. You’ve gotten fat off the acorns that fall nearly year-round in our front yard. Our back yard looks like Wild Kingdom, making it the perfect playground. And, I haven’t seen a tulip boom since 2005 because you’ve eaten all the bulbs.

Now, like your friends the Slugs, you’ve gone too far. My two pots of geraniums fell victim to your greed. While digging for a place to bury food, you ripped them from the pots and threw them on the porch.

I didn’t want to plant flowers, but my five-year-old daughter has a blossoming interest. She asked her grandfather to buy flowers, and this is what he sent to her. Some of you have families, so you shouldn’t be surprised by my reaction.

I hope you like mothballs and cayenne pepper, because I know where your winter stashes are.

Sincerely,

Diva

A Note to Garden Slugs

Posted by Yoga Bynum

Dear Slugs: I like to think I’ve been good to you. My poorly kept lawn is full of weeds, wild onions and toadstools for you to feast upon. Our giant tree drops acorns nonstop, which lead to the growth of about 10 saplings a week, even more during the rainy season. Don’t act like you don’t eat them; I’ve seen those little holes you leave behind in their broad green leaves.

We use natural fertilizer and weedkillers, which, as you know, really don’t do all that much. I’ve heard of some who use a spray to keep away you and your friends for weeks, but no, I respect the circle of life.

How do you repay me for my kindness? By eating the one thing I paid good money to put out there: the three patches of hot-pink vincas around the tree. Last time, you let them be. They grew so well that our neighbor who routinely shames us with his personal botanical garden applauded us for our improved landscaping.

Oh, they put up a good fight. They tried to grow. I waited weeks for the buds to bloom, and one day, they disappeared. All that’s left are a few sickly stalks. Until my husband saw you swarming on them the other day, we blamed the squirrels.

Now that I know you are at fault, this means war. It’s an environmentally friendly war, but it’s war nonetheless. I will nurse those damn vincas back to health, by hook or by crook. I don’t know if you are the praying kind, but if so, you better get to it, because I’m gunning for you.

Sincerely,
Diva

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone