Introduction

Some days, all I want is to brush my teeth without having my pajama bottoms aggressively torn from my body. No, not from my sex crazed husband, but from my dear 16 month old toddler. She is temporarily appeased when I hand her my round hair brush to play with, which she immediately uses to brush our labrador. At least it wasn't the Shit zu, that would've been fun to untangle.

I decided to write a blog because of an experiment I tried several months ago. It was called "mom of the year" - an invitation to the other mothers I know to share their proudest and not-so-proud moments of motherhood. The response was overwhelming, gratefully so. It seems as though many moms (and dads) have their moments when they think "What the HELL am I doing raising a child!?" But all these parents think that because they only want the best for their children...and that's what makes them great parents. That, I learned from my wiser and older, but not bigger, sister who has a gift for saying the right thing at the right time.

So I thought I would give it a go. Brooks, my loving husband, thinks this will be therapeutic. ("So you think I need therapy?"). But I have to agree. I know sharing those "mom of the year" moments were.

For my first entry I thought I'd explain the this picture. It's me with my daughter Piper Marlee. Yes, I have a black eye. No, it's not from an argument with Brooks - you all know who'd have the black eye in that situation. I'm the one with the temper. It's from miss Piper. Head butting me - sweetly.

This has lead to an experience I'd rather not have again. I've developed true empathy for individuals with abnormal "things" on their faces. The stares I have gotten are unbelievable. People have very poor sense of what is an appropriate amount of time to look at a stranger's face as they are walking by. After having the black eye for a couple of days I forgot about it. Until out in public. The first thoughts one day in the grocery store with Piper were, "Is he hitting on me?", "Did I cut in front of her in line?", "Is my fly down?". Then I remembered the "thing" on my face. Then I started to get angry about it (remember, the temper?) and started staring people down when they stared at me - daring them to just ASK instead of assuming the worst! The NERVE of these people being so RUDE! So I left the store in a mental huff. I got into my car and turned the rear view mirror where I could get a good look at the "thing" everyone was so rudely staring at.

Oh. Maybe it was the banana in my hair.....