My Moronic Motherhood Adventures

Okay. I promised you all a post on my own personal moron moments as a mother. And I’m hoping if you’re between the ages of fifteen and twenty-one, please take note so you don’t make the same mistakes.

1.Be Careful Who You Pick to be the Baby’s Daddy. Are you asking yourself what this has to do with being a MORON? Genetics is one. And what they do with their free time as a hobby is another.

At 18, I married the epitome of demon spawn. A mama’s boy hooked on everything from bug spray huffing to snorting Drano-exaggerating here but not far from the truth. This was the beginning of my moronic moment in motherhood. Choices can make or brake you, ladies and gentlemen. And in my moronic euphoria, I had three daughters by this sub-human-alien.

Needless to say, I haven’t been married to the walking-toxic-waste-dump for a good 20 years now. Bad boys with residual mother issues do not make good husbands or ex-husbands for that matter. Nor do they make Father of the Year. They’ll cost you your life’s savings and your sanity. And they’ll embarrass their own offspring.

2. Baby Bottle Lids and Microwaves. This is a moment I’ve never forgotten with my first daughter, Fred. She must’ve been 5 months old. I remember suffering from sleep depravation in this moronic moment. In fact, it gives me nightmares in my waking hours when I recall the hall of motherhood memories.

It was way too early in the morning. Dark, in fact. I kept the lights off to keep Fred from screaming up a lung before I could get her bottle properly filled and warmed-that’s what some baby book suggested. Stupid me maneuvered like a blind person through the act of pouring  formula into the bottle, sticking it in the microwave, nuking, and removing it. With one hand I THOUGHT I screwed the lid on it. THOUGHT!

So after I get Fred and me into a comfortable position for the feeding, the baby lets out this blood curdling scream and EXTREMELY warm liquid runs down my lap. The poor baby’s face is covered in formula. I thought for sure I had scalded and drowned her in one feeding. Thank God she’s 27 and has no memory of this moronic moment.

Oatmeal Balls. At 6 weeks old per my mother’s advice, Fred needed to be introduced to rice cereal from a spoon. OMG! This took coordination on both parts and some kind of confidence from me. Mom said to make it watery but I couldn’t keep the cereal on the spoon long enough to get it into her mouth let alone off me.

So I decided to make it thicker, pasty-like. It stuck to the spoon and it pretty much made it into her mouth. Problem solved. Right?

Maybe three weeks later, around 8 P.M., Fred went into a crying to screaming tirade. It lasted all night long. Nothing helped. Changing her diaper. Feeding her. Holding her. Patting her. All of this seemed to make it worse. I was beside myself.

Finally, at 6 A.M. the next morning a miracle happened. She let out loud, thunderous burp- I believe the house shook- and a ball the size of an orange popped out of her mouth.

It was several weeks worth of cereal formed into a nice tight ball. What a MORON!

3. My Two-Year-Old Driver. Yes. Daughter number four, Tinkerbell, decided to drive her and her sisters out of a parking lot one day. Why? Because her MORONIC and pregnant mother made the bad decision to leave her and sisters unattended in the van.

On my way back from talking with a teacher, I watched my van coast toward the school. HOLY SH@#$%!

Me and my 7 month-old pregnant belly ran like no other woman with child ever had. I did an Angelina-Jolie- jump onto the open door on the driver’s side and screamed REALLY, REALLY loud, and landed on my bottom, knocking every once of breath out of me watching the van careening closer to the school’s office.

But Fred saved the day-she was 9 then. Some how she managed to climb into the driver’s seat and drive it over a parking lot bump before she slammed the shift into park.

Yes. Fred had more sense than her MORONIC mother that day.

So dear followers have you ever had a few MORONIC mother moments? Do share.