This blog...

will serve as a record of how we all survived, if we make it. Me and Brian need to survive Riley growing up and she needs to survive being parented by us. I think I need to change the title of my page, to something like "Jungle Mama: One Foolish Woman Attempting to Domesticate Wild Monkeys" How's that sound? Any other suggestions?






So, the latest in the saga of Rileyisms. Yeah, you see that? That picture was taken last Tuesday and the top of her head is still red. The marker doesn't wash out. Off topic: notice how Rob is totally cracking up looking at the back of her head?


















And then Friday was a hell of a day as well. I was "that mom". I had to go to HyVee and get some stuff with both kids and Brian was off doing some bitch work or other for his dad. (Who I totally love and am fine with, but I kind of wish he could have some free time to just hang out. He's ALWAYS busy helping someone) Anyway, we made it most of the way through the store and we were doing ok. Not great, but nobody was crying, not even me! We got to the checkout and the bagger boy said he had to take away the car-cart like he always does. So I'm still trying to wrangle the groceries and receipt and make sure we've got it all when Riley just zoom took off. She went from checkout to parking lot in under 3 seconds.
Yep, she ran all the way to the door and outside and right out into traffic without looking back. So I shove the cart out of the way and take after her. Thank God I wore Robby in the wrap or I totally would have dropped him. I've never been so scared in my life.
Something has to change with Riley or she will literally get herself killed before age 4. She's not scared of anything and I can't keep up with her. So I ended up with these two women who got my cart and followed me out to the car trying to ask me if everything was all right and could they do anything to help. And I just wanted to scream, "NO, it isn't all right. And I don't know what will help!!!" All I did was scoop her up and shove her roughly in the car without a binky. And I told her that I was very mad that she didn't listen and sad because she could have gotten hurt by running away. I don't think it made an impact.

The same day she had buckled herself into her doll's stroller and I was trying to get her to stop when she waddled over to the stairs and rolled right down with the stroller still hanging off her butt. Pink plastic wheels, head over heels. Could have been broken bones. Just as I was telling her to get back from the stairs before she got hurt. I could just cry. She's like a kamikaze baby.