Bad Mommy!

Man I have just been getting pummeled lately as a mother.  I can't seem to do anything right!  Here is a list of reasons why not:
*I'm a whale.  (She's going to love this in another 10 years or so)  I was telling K she had such a teeny little bum the other day.  She was pullin' her pants up after going to the bathroom and she stuck her behind out and said "look, my bum got bigger!"  Ben laughed and said no, you don't have a big bum.  K then saw me and said "Mommy you have a big bum, show me your big bum?"  A few disclaimers:  No, we do not go around showing eachother our bums, this has never happened, so don't trust the 3 year old.  I am working on making my big bum smaller ok???  And for the record miss, you helped give me the big bum!  I definitely lol'ed but I also felt very sad inside. 
*I'm sitting here waiting for the police to come tearing up our street and screech to a stop in front of our house.  I went to the UPS store to drop off two boxes to be sent back to Qwest (because they are horrible).  I didn't want to yank the kids out of the car for a less-than-2-minute excursion, so I locked the doors and went on in.  I was in there for literally less than 2 minutes and when I was leaving, there was a man talking on his cell phone saying the word "Expedition" (which is what I drive).  So I'm pretty sure overly concerned man who believes he's just doing his civic duty phoned 911 on me because it's 65 degrees outside and my kids were locked in the car for such a short amount of time that they never would even notice I'm gone.  Dude.  At least wait until it's been 10 minutes or more and the kids are still there alone.  It's the same as if I left them in the car while I went to pay for my gas. 
*I took a shower *gasp!*.  Yup.  Apparently taking a shower while your kids are awake is detrimental to the state of your house and you should never ever shower if you don't want things to come completely unglued in your absence.  Your 3 year old will do things like:
-Find the stash of M&M's for potty training (that we don't even use anymore) in the cabinet she's never opened before.  She will feed them to your 10 month old so he drips M&M drool all over the floor.
-She will find her birthday present that is already wrapped, and unwrap it. 

-Empty the contents of your jewelry drawer so that your 10 month old can chew on them and pull necklaces apart.
-Find the box of baking soda that you have in your bedroom and proceed to sprinkle it upon your 10 month old, who finds this hysterical.  Also, she will insist on taking more handfuls out and putting them on your bedside table, all while you are still dripping wet from the shower and yelling "STOP!"  at her from across the room.  *To explain.  Baking soda is in my bedroom because poor Dev has super poops from taking Augmentin and the best remedy for his nasty diaper rash that I've found is soaking him in baking soda baths and then putting corn starch on him before diaper cream.  It totally works fabulously, but it means you have baking soda in your room...  I'm so glad she didn't unscrew the lid to the cornstarch, THAT would've been a mess.  Also, this pic of Devin doesn't do him baking-soda justice.  I took this after I'd brought the vacuum up and the majority of it had already sprinkled off of him.

*I thought I donated her very important, very necessary, very loved Ducky to Goodwill.  I took some of Saturday and cleaned out our linen closet and clothes closet, so I had a big pile of stuff on our landing.  I stuffed everything into garbage bags in a big ole hurry so that we could take them and drop it all off and bid good riddance to some clutter before dinner.  That is my favorite feeling ever, I hate clutter!!!!!!!!  Clutter comes alive and reaches out and strangles me, I can't have it around me.  Unnecessary items in my house make me almost more stressed than anything else.  This probably stems from a super pack-ratty childhood in which I collected huge amounts of things like rocks and such that had some sentimental meaning at one point, but by the time I was cleaning things out to move to EA, I wanted desperately to be rid of them.  I don't buy dumb little things for the kids, I never will, I hate dumb little things.  I've become very hardened and cold in my older age towards "things" and I'm sorry kids, but you'll never get a knick knack in your entire existence from your mother.  I can't deal with clutter!!!  Anyway.  To continue.  I was allowing myself to breathe easier by cleaning some things out.  We got home, got the kids ready for bed and I went on the daily hunt for the duck (and her pacifier, but that's neither here nor there, leave me alone, that does not count today as a bad mother symptom).  Couldn't find it.  Tore apart her bedroom.  Couldn't find it.  Tore apart the family room.  Couldn't find it.  Tore apart my bedroom.  Couldn't find it.  Looked in our guest room and guest closet.  Couldn't find it couldn't find it couldn't find it.  Now, panic begins to set in.  This is the duck that K has had sleeping with her since she was 3 months old.  It immediately calmed her from the first moment we gave it to her to sleep with, and I am not exaggerating.  She has a special foot on the duck that I think is the right foot.  It is identical to all the other feet, but she only uses that particular foot and she "paints" her fingernails (or Ben's and mine while we're singing to her at night).  If I looked closely, it would make appearances in the majority of the pictures we've taken of her.  It's the everpresent lovey that she I'm sure, ties her entire sense of security to.  She needs this thing (well, you other mom's know how it goes, most children have one).  Panic set in.  I told Ben, he looked for it.  Then he mentioned something about the big pile of ish that was at the top of the stairs, and OH NO.  It got donated to Goodwill.  In my haste to shovel clutter out of my life, I shoveled my daughters security out of our lives too.  I drove no less than 65 mph back to Goodwill, bawling and praying the entire way.  Oh yes, I prayed.  I prayed that I would find the duck.  Is that weird to pray for the safe return of an inanimate object?  I think not.  I've never felt so bad in my life.  If they had already trashed the duck or sold it, I would be responsible for damaging Kyndal's psyche forever.  Me.  Mommy.  The one who makes everything better.  I gave her duck to Goodwill.  I spent 1/2 an hour searching through big crates of junk and couldn't find our bags.  They forced me out of there (since they were closed) and told me to come back in the morning.  Kyndal had fallen asleep already by the time I got home, using her replacement duck that she calls Daddy Duck (don't know why).  I kept tearing up at home and I felt like the next 12 hours until I could go back to save the duck from the clutches of crap heaven would take far too long.  I couldn't sit still, so I went and looked around the house again.  I entered the guest room for the 3rd time that night, and lo and behold, angels were singing and the duck and plug were sitting on the chair in the guest room.  An angel placed that duck there for me, I'm sure of it.  I'm sure of it because I went in that room and looked and looked and looked and never once saw it sitting innocently in the chair.  A little bit of back story, now that I'd realized where she'd left the duck and plug.  (Watch out Heidi, you're going to cry).  Heidi has lived with us basically constantly since K was born until Heidi left for grad school in June.  The room Heidi lived in is still "Heidi's room" to K.  So is the bathroom Heidi used.  When K wants to use that toilet, it's always "Heidi's potty".  None of Heidi's things are there anymore, but once I found the duck, I knew what had happened.  Kyndal had come running up to me because Daddy had swatted her bum for knocking Devin over ("I tackled him!"....).  She wanted her duck and plug for comfort, and I told her no way sista, plug is only for bedtime.  She climbed up on my counter, put on some of my make-up, and left just fine.  But apparently she still needed some love, so she went into her room and retrieved duck and plug and went into Heidi's room for some alone time.  She does this everyonce in a while.  When I can't find the duck for naptime, it's usually in Heidi's old room (the guest room).  I think that when K needs a moment to herself, she goes in there and rests.  Why I didn't remember that this was the case, I don't know.  I think that Ben was so convinced that I'd ruined our child's life, I became so distraught I couldn't think straight (actually, he wasn't blaming me, but he did say he would never let me live this down).  Ahhh, all is well, crisis was averted.  I almost lost the duck, but I found the duck too.  So while Ben was putting K to sleep and she was saying "it's ok, Mommy will find the duck" (and I'm crying just thinking this, because I cannot ever fail her), I found the duck.  She still has her most stable security in the duck, and Mommy still saved the day.  Phew.  Much ado about nothing!!


*Also today, I am in a total funk for a not-mommy related reason.  Please feel bad for me and shower reassuring statements upon my bitter head.  The only other girl Ben ever dated seriously was named Julia.  She had done some modeling, she was tall and skinny, long blonde hair, super pretty.  I've always sort of hated that (why couldn't she be super ugly??!!), but the other day I was driving home at night after grocery shopping or something and saw an election poster whose website was electjulia.com and had a suspiciously blonde girl on it as well.  Well damn.  It's the Julia.  She's running for Town Councilman in our fabulous town, and so I now get to see her face splashed in front of me on a daily basis, mocking me.  "Ooooh, look at me!  I'm still pretty and blonde AND I'm ambitious!  Aren't you just a bump on a log!".  Yes, the poster speaks to me, and yes, I snarl rude things to her poster face as I drive past her every 500 yards.  Curses!!  So today, not only am I feeling like a bad mom, I'm feeling like a total lame-o, underachieving, no-accomplishment-having BLOB.  For the record, I have met her once (in Target, haha), she is completely nice, I have no hard feelings towards her as a person.  But I still want to stick my tounge out at her as I drive by.

*I don't know if this is worth mentioning or not, or if it's even that spectacular, but Devin can climb up the stairs, the entire way.  He's 10 months.