I was talking to a fellow mom the other day who was all, “my kid never really went through the terrible 2′s. And 3 wasn’t that bad either.” And I tried so hard to call upon my laser fire eye super power to bore a hole through her skull. Yet again, it failed me.

As you all know, my G has been a powerhouse since the day he was born. He’s always been “more”. He is his mother, from his 2 year old hairy back to his dramatic interpretation of a wild cat eating ice cream. And so I sort of get him. But man alive, did the Universe want me to learn shit from this child.


I say that because I try so hard to learn patience and acceptance and all that other bullshit that we want our kids to learn. Like when I SCUHREAM at the top of my lungs GAVIN USE YOUR INDOOR VOICE! WE’RE IN THE HOUSE YOU MANIAC. And then I’m like…um. I mean….**gavin please speak quietly or something**

And for 2.75 years, if you make a mistake or kind of ignore that your kid is a “dumper” or a “swiper” or an occasional “kicker in the gut”, it’s not that big of a deal. But then, THEN the ultimate judgement falls upon you.


Guys, G is in the most wonderfully awesome preschool in the whole wide land. I couldn’t dream of a better school for him. That’s why when I started to get an email or a phone call every now and then, I knew G was acting a fool.

It went like this

PS: So, um, G had a bit of a rough day

Me: Oh no, really?

PS: Well, he’s a dumper

Me: (shit) mmm hmm.

PS: Which is ok, except he dumped all of the magnets into a bucket of paint.

Me: Oh no, um, really? I’m so sorry I’ll…

PS: And then I tried to explain that we couldn’t use the magnets anymore that way. I tried to redirect him to coloring

Me: Oh how did that go?

PS: Well, he picked up the crayon I handed him and broke it.

Me: (hiding face in hands)

PS:  And then he threw about 10 toys across the room. After he ran around with the scissors.

Me: Yeah he’s a thrower and a runner.

PS: Yes he is. But he’s also 2 and we do understand. You’re doing a great job. We just wanted to let you know.

And your first gut reaction is to get to the school immediately to install hidden cameras in every corner of the room so you can record your child’s nonsense and play it back to him and show him that he can not do that stupid shit anymore.


See preschool is the first time our kids are totally out of our control, on their own, in the world. They either are going to act right or act 2 years old. But you just really cross your fingers and hope they act 33 years old. Because *gasp* does his stupid shit make ME look bad?

And I realized that THAT’s what I was worried about. I didn’t want anyone to think that I wasn’t doing my job as a mom. I failed to teach him not to dump, swipe, kick and de-magnetize. Therefor I am a failure.

No. Obviously that’s insane. Obviously I’m acting a fool. And obviously this is where G gets it from.

But dudes, this is why Preschool is so hard. Letting go of your little baby to become a real person in the world, mistakes and all, without the ability to say, NO DON’T RUN AWAY WITH SCISSORS is.hard. But you have to just hope you did some things right so far and that they will figure it out.

His teacher told me this little story that I’m going to try to remember to tell you. Because it’s sweet. And I think about it when I want to run in and protect G from a non swiping world.

Ok, here we go

A cocoon had a butterfly in it at some place. A little girl wanted to see it. She watched the butterfly try to get out of the cocoon but it couldn’t quite do it. So she shoved her fingers in there to help it out. It got out but it was weak and pretty much died. It needed the struggle of the cocoon escape to become strong and survive in the world. And the help that the little girl gave essentially was it’s demise.

Ok that’s an awful story and not at all how it actually was told. But you get it. Helping our kids too much will only hurt them. They need the struggles to grow and be strong. And grow butterfly lasers to destroy anything in their path. Or something.

So I’m going to do my best to not shove my fingers into G’s cocoon. 

G has good days and bad days at school now. And it’s still an exercise for me to let it all go. Because he’s 2 and it’s not Harvard. We have a long road ahead of us of ups and down and slutty girlfriends and stuff. So we need to buckle up.

It’s only just beginning.



Thanks to Three Little Birds Children’s boutique for sponsoring this past bottle of wine that I just bought. These guys make the cutest little baby teethers. Your baby will resemble a wild animal as it gnaws the shit of these things. And they are adorable. AND make super cute hippie gifts. Check them out. This one is one of my faves. Use code MODG20 for 20% off.


Interested in joining the MODG sponsor family? Email my face at modgblog at gmail you know the rest.

POSTED IN: Dramababy,Mom Stuff

B and others who know me in real life say that I overshare.

Duh B and others.

Hi, I write MODGblog.

But I posted this on facebook Sunday:

“Today I cried a little as my best boy got on an airplane and left mommy for a week. Then I pooped by myself for the first time in 5 months and got over it.”

I’m not sure what’s overshare-y about that. Poop is poop and it comes out of everyone’s butts. But it’s time to talk about what that post was really about.

I AM TODDLER-LESS FOR THE WEEK. Let that sink in a little.


For those of you who have a toddler and a baby…especially an active toddler with an affinity for construction equipment and destruction, you know what I’m saying.

I am here with Ruby and no G. This is the first time I’ve been away from him since our babymoon to Miami and the 2nd time total ever. I didn’t really know what that meant until he left. It means a lot of things. It means that I miss him dearly. Let’s get that out of the way. But it also means these things. These things that I now can do and some that I can’t do now that the 2 year old has peaced.

  • I can walk into the kitchen, open up all the cabinets, open the drawer full of knives and walk away. I can even yell at the top of my lungs THE DRAWER OF KNIVES IS OPEN AND NO ONE IS WATCHING! SHARP THINGS ARE EVERYWHERE!
  • I can freely eat cookies at 11am, 1pm, 4pm, and 8pm without sharing. Also without hiding. Also in my bed. Also on the toilet.
  • I can shower. Like during waking hours. And then if I feel like it, I can put eyeshadow on without someone seriously trying to convince me that it’s actually not eyeshadow, but paint for coloring books and maybe the wall.
  • I can pull into my driveway and open my garage for easy house access and walk directly into my house immediately upon arrival. The opposing scenario is this: TOYS MOMMYMOMMYMOMMY PLAY TOYS. TOYS TOYS. NO INSIDE. TOYS. NO LUNCH. NO FEED RUBY. TOYS.  (the damn toys are in the garage in case you didn’t put that together)
  • I can go to the mall as I please during waking hours and not Jim’s Bouncy Run Around Be Crazy Play Land to get out energy, ensuring long toddler naps. In fact, I can just stare at the wall and not move at all.
  • I can walk up and down the stairs, holding things in my hands. I do not in fact need any free baby gate opening or closing hands. BECAUSE I DON’T NEED BABY GATES. Swing wide, sweet baby gates. Swing wide and free.
  • I can choose an outfit based on pure style and awesomeness and not based on how easily ketchup and yogurt stains will be removed from the fabric.
  • I can take 56 minutes deciding on that outfit if I so choose to.
  • I can watch TV during waking hours. That TV program can include vampires, nudity, and the words shit and asshole. And I have no idea what project Bob the Builder is building.
  • Similarly I do not have to watch on tv any cats in hats or any mentally disturbed men in yellow who regularly talk to monkeys.
  • I can bring a purse with me that isn’t the size of New Mexico and waterproof. I don’t have anyone digging through it for snacks. I can put it on the floor if I want. I can put makeup in it. I do not have 5 trucks and a train in it.
  • There are currently no sticks or rocks in my car.
  • And yes, I can poop in private.


I want to be clear about something, I haven’t been able to do any of these things in 2 years. G is a wonderful nut of a child and was a very colicky baby. I couldn’t put him down for a second. I was overwhelmed as a new mom and freaked out. Ruby is chill and goes with the flow. And for that reason, I’m relaxed. I literally feel like I’m on vacation.

I remember blogging about how hard motherhood was when I had G. I remember a specific comment that said “dude, what are you complaining about? You have 1 child.” But now that I have Ruby? I’d like to say F you to that commenter. ALL BABIES ARE NOT CREATED EQUAL. Yes 1 baby in general is pretty easy. But 1 G equals 7 regular babies. I really didn’t fully know how stressed I was until this very moment.

Moms, if you have a toddler and a baby, I fully recommend a toddler vacation. Get the kid to the grandparents for a week. It will change you.

Moms, stand on your couch and hold your cookie high. Shout to the world FREEDOM. I AM FREE.

mom cookie

If you need me, I’ll be watching Vampire Diaries on really loud while sharpening my knives.





In honor of mom freedom, this post is brought to you by Laura Prell Massage Therapy. This one is for my local moms. If you’re toddler isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, get your ass to get a massage. It’s sort of weird getting a massage at a place you don’t know about for the first time. You don’t know where those hands have been and you are not so sure about being naked around them. I’m here to give you a solid thumbs up for Laura. She’s local to downtown Phoenixville, PA and is super affordable. Highly recommend.

Now go get a massage. Bring the cookie.



POSTED IN: Awesome things,Dramababy,Mom Stuff,Toddlers

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