Daily Monologue 2.0


You may recall my post a few months ago about my daily monologue, here. Well, we spent last week at the Jersey Shore with the kids and, despite being exhausted and in desperate need of a post-vacation vacation, I’ve taken the time to document Daily Monologue 2.0: The Vacation Edition. (You are soooo welcome!)

It was like the Groundhog Day of Parenting down there… here’s what I said, over and over and over and over again for four days. (Was it really only four days? It felt like a helluva lot longer than that.)

No, we are not almost there.

No, we are not almost there.

No, we are not almost there.

[To self: Deep breath, you’re on vacation.]

Yes, we can go swimming today.

Yes, we can get ice cream today.

We’re getting closer! Watch the movie.

Shhhh, don’t wake Happy Dude… here’s a snack. (The arsenal of snacks I had at my disposal was seriously impressive. I was Prepared with a capital… well, yeah, you can see that.)

We’ll be there in ten minutes! (25)

We’ll be there in ten minutes! (15)

We’ll be there in ten minutes! (10!)

Stay close to me, this is a busy parking lot.

[To self: Deep breath, you’re on vacation.]

Yes, we can get ice cream today.

Lower your voices, this is a hotel.

Please don’t take your shoes off until we get to the room.

Please don’t press every button in the elevator.

One of you can press up, the other can press the floor.

One order of grilled cheese & fries, one order of chicken tenders & fries (Four days x two meals a day = Lots of the beige food group. )

Yes, we can go swimming now.

Find your bathing suit.

Yes, you need a bathing suit.

He needs a swim diaper.

Oooh, he pooped. He needs a new swim diaper.

You all need sunblock.

Close your eyes.

Stand still.

Look up.

Hold your hair back.

Turn around.

Stand still.

No, you’re not done.

Don’t rub!

[To self: Deep breath, you’re on vacation.]

Yes, we can get ice cream today.

Yes, we’re going swimming right now.

We’re almost ready.

Do you have your swim vest?

Do you have your goggles?

Don’t run in the halls.

Please lower your voices, this is a hotel.

One of you can press up, the other can press the floor.

No running by the pool!

Be careful, it’s slippery.

Be careful, it’s hot.

If you don’t stop, that lifeguard is going to yell at you. (This may or may not have been true… sue me.)

 [To self: Deep breath, you’re on vacation.]

You DO need my help.

That’s not called swimming, that’s called DROWNING.*

No, I do not want to see where all that sand went.

No, I do not want to see another dead crab.

No, I do not want you to put sand in my hair.

Yes, we can get ice cream today.

Please lower your voices… aw hell, we’re on the beach in Jersey, be as loud as you want. You can’t possibly compete.

Hey! I have an idea… how about some down time? (Never.)

Yes, we can get ice cream right now.

The stroller is for the Happy Dude.

Please get out of the stroller.

I’m glad you’re tired; maybe you’ll sleep later than 6:00am. (She won’t.)

I’m sorry your belly hurts; maybe you’ll stop eating so many French fries. (She won’t.)

No, you can’t have any more ice cream.

No, we are done swimming for the day.

No, swimming in the pool does not count as a bath.

Yes, you are all going to sleep in the same room.


[To self: Deep breath, you’re on vacation]

Go to sleep.

Go back to sleep.

It’s really late, go back to sleep.

Get back in your bed.

Go back to sleep.

It’s really early, go back to sleep.

No, it’s 6:15am, we cannot go swimming yet.

Yes, we can have ice cream today. Later.

Yes, later.

Yes, later.

Yes, later.

Sunblock time!

We have a love-hate relationship.


*The Nibbit is 100% confident is his ability to swim and does not want any help whatsoever. He likes to take off his swim vest and jump in without telling anyone what he is doing. He is sure he can do it. He is sure he’ll be OK. He is a GREAT swimmer. He will tell you this again and again.

After he jumps, he will flail in the water, treading frantically and rapidly sinking until someone grabs him and pulls him up. He will then look at you with his giant, round eyes and say… “See? Told ya I could swim.”

Daily Monologue


I tried to write a real post today, but instead I spent the day saying these things. Over and over and over again. 

Please stop.

Please go.

Please move.

Stop moving.

Can you please move a little faster?

Slow down, you’re going to get hurt.

Aw, are you hurt?

You’re OK!

Get that out of your mouth.

Get that out of your nose.

What is that in your nose?

Let’s wipe that nose.

Don’t wipe your nose on your sleeve.

Please don’t be fresh.

Please listen.

Stop yelling.

Answer me.

Wash your hands.

Brush your teeth.

Don’t use that to brush your teeth.

Where are you going?

Just go.

Hurry up.

Slow down.

Please stand still!

Do you want a snack?

No, you can’t have a snack.

You just had a snack.

What do you say?

How do you ask?

No, you can’t have candy.

No, you can’t have ice cream.

Who wants an apple?

I have to figure out what to make for dinner.

I’m trying to make dinner.

Eat your dinner.

Please don’t throw your dinner on the floor.

Be gentle.

No hitting.

No biting.

No pushing.

Get off the baby.

Please leave the baby alone.

Put that down.

Pick that up.

Please stand up.

Please sit down.

Just taste it.

Don’t put that in your mouth.


Good night.

Good niiiiight.

I love you more.


Coming tomorrow: my thoughts on Hell on Earth pregnancy.

Brothers & Sister


Dear Brood,

Remember yesterday morning when you guys were all laughing hysterically with each other and I SPUN around in my desk chair with my most mean face and used my angry voice to say, “That’s it! I have had enough with all of this LAUGHING! I am TRYING to focus and all of your giggling is DISTRACTING me and I cannot TAKE IT ANYMORE! You are all going to come home from school and spend the rest of the day in your rooms!”

Hahahahahaha, the looks on your faces were so awesome. Granted, the Happy Dude was pretty clueless and just kept talking about his mobile crane truck. But the Nibbit’s eyes got all wide and scared and the Loud One’s expression was one of confusion and anger mixed together. You guys were all, “What? What did we even do wrong?” as I spouted phrases like “excessive giggling” and “too much happiness at the breakfast table!”

JUST when you were all about to lose it, I yelled… do you remember what I yelled?


Do you remember that? Oh man, that was fantastic.

Loud One, you were pretty much the only one that thought it was funny as your one brother just continued his monologue about construction vehicles and the other one said, “I didn’t really like that joke.”

The point of this story is that I want to tell you that I ALMOST couldn’t do it. As I was sitting at the computer, planning my “angry” speech, I was listening to you guys laughing together and love love loving it and I almost didn’t want to interrupt that moment.

Because here’s the thing, guys. There is nothing in this whole wide world that is more important to me than the three of you liking each other. I mean, really liking each other and enjoying each other’s company. Being more than siblings… being friends.

You will have a lot of friends in your lifetime. You have friends now that you may still even love when you’re 41. (I know, it’s hard to believe… but sometimes friendships just stick hard like glue.)

You will meet new friends along the way – friends from school and activities and sports and summer camp and college and jobs and other jobs and grad school and random cities in which to choose to live and vacations you take and bars you frequent and suburbs and then YOUR kids’ preschool and… the list goes on and on.

You will have friends from these places that stick (I have a friend that would call these people “takeaways”… friends you take away with you into the next phase of your life) but you will also have friendships that come a bit… unglued. You move on; you drift apart; you lose touch.

This is OK. This is normal. This is how it works.

(Of course, Facebook makes all friendships a bit stickier, but that’s a formality.)

Side note kids: don’t cling to virtual relationships. Hold on tight to your real life, in person, meet for lunch/coffee/drinks friends and don’t get too caught up with what everyone on the InterWeb is saying and doing. But that’s another letter for another day.)

Again, my point is that friendships may come and go, BUT YOU WILL ALWAYS HAVE EACH OTHER.

(I know the three of you are rolling your eyes right now saying, “We KNOW, Mom; you tell us that, like, all the time.” Try not to use “like” so much guys; it either is or it isn’t.)

Well, I say it a lot because it’s true. (And also maybe a teeny bit because I sort of hope that one day one of you will write a best-selling book called “KMACisms: Wise Words from My Mom” and in order to do so, I have to give you a lot of material now.) But mostly I say it a lot because it’s true.

Sure, I cried when I found the Nibbit was a boy because I really wanted the Loud One to have a sister. But what the hell did I know then? NOW, four years later, I know that LO got the siblings she was so meant to have! I mean, the three of you fit together like three pieces of the same puzzle. Granted, LO’s has puppies on it and Happy Dude’s has trucks and Nibbit’s has… blah blah blah but whatever! Same puzzle!

So, when you laugh together and treat each other kindly and enjoy each other’s company, well my Starbucks cup runneth over. That’s as good as it gets for me. THAT moment is always my Favorite Part of the Day.

They tell us parents that we should model the behavior we want to see from our kids. Well. I’m not really sure how I’m doing on that front – I’d rather you guys be a bit more patient than I am, with each other and with friends and strangers and especially with the crap drivers out there. And you definitely shouldn’t eat as many Cadbury Eggs in one sitting as I do. But if you can form sibling relationships like the ones I have? Then I’ll be one satisfied Mom.

You guys, each other is who you will have through all the tough stuff in life. Problems with friends, fights with me and Dad, trouble at school, relationships and break-ups, parenting your own kids and eventually a long, long, long time from now, living life after Dad and I are gone. (I’m sure they’ll be arguments over who gets the privilege of caring for me in my old age. That’s only natural.)

TRUST ME. Life can be really, really HARD sometimes. Bad shit will happen. But I promise you… it is infinitely easier if you lean on each other. Share your burdens; lighten your load.

You were born family. Become friends. Stay friends.

You will always have each other.

(Sorry, but I’m going to keep saying it. Take notes for that book.)

Love you to California and the moon and back,


PS. I’m still really, really happy that I played that joke on you.