My Good Mothering Skills

Today, I put melon in my smoothie, and it was gross. Yesterday, there was a worm that had been bleaching in the water that Jude drank from the backyard, and that was really gross. I promise I was watching him — mostly. 
I wouldn’t dream of setting up cameras outside and in every room of my house and of making my closet the Control Booth. I wouldn’t dare consider a microphone and the ability to release dry ice into any room containing disobedience.  I wouldn’t hurl Nos and if you make me get ups in a motherly Wizard of Oz voice or zap their little finger tips with a small electrical-carpet jolts, all while I drink tea and eat (what else?) bon-bons. I would never even think of such a thing.
I don’t know why I wrote that. Really, my days are fun. It’s a game. 
Where in the world is Jude Mouk Haines? 
  • screaming mirk mirk mirk mirk and attempting to drink the sippy-cup cheese factory he left in the bottom of my closet last week
  • standing on kitchen counter while licking butter off a butter knife
  • in the back yard, naked, trying to open the gate
  • upstairs putting all of Isaac’s shoes in the toilet
  • biting into a raw, dirty potato while squatting under the lowest shelf in the pantry
  • standing in bathroom drawer with Seth’s and my toothbrushes in his mouth
  • eating play-doh behind bedroom curtain
  • in the coat closet with a bowl on his head (where’d he get the bowl?)
  • under the dining room table trying to fit napkin rings on his wrists
  • combing his hair in the coat closet (I think he has a comb stash)
He must get his sense of adventure from me.
This is for your education:
Sometimes I just want to go somewhere, so yesterday I decided to take all three boys to Sam’s because we desperately needed diapers. Wew, that was painful. I’m just telling you in case, for some nutso reason, you also get the urge to take all of your children, three and under, to Sam’s. Don’t do it. It’s a scream festival. This is when you should get creative and make diapers out of paper towels or old t-shirts.
At Sam’s no one has any sense. Children do not know that if they jump on the sideways trampoline screwed forty feet up to the wall, they will fall down. They do not know that the vitamin man cannot keep giving Gummy Vites because their kidneys will cease to function. It is hard to explain such things in Sam’s.
Sometimes people look at me like, “who invited you to Sam’s?” Sometimes people ask me the ages of my children and walk away shaking their heads. Sometimes people ask me if I know how that happens. It’s true. That’s Sam’s with your kiddos — just loving my kids and my fellow Fayettevillians. 
On the way home, Jude’s car-seat completely fell over. It was another one of those times that you want to laugh so hard that you cry yourself to sleep. Second educational note: please recheck your car-seats from time to time. Apparently, they can loosen up. Jude was almost up-side down in the back seat with a car-seat attached to his bottom. He was yelling Hope! Hope!, which means help. Isaac and I laughed so hard that I nearly wrecked. 
When we got home, as I pulled into the garage, I saw a ginormous, nearly full box of diapers sitting on the shelf next to the door. Now we’re set for a while. Wahoo! 


About me


Reply April 2, 2008

Oh my goodness, Amber, I have tears in my eyes from laughing at Jude and his car seat. SO funny!

Reply April 2, 2008

Absolutely hilarious!

Reply April 2, 2008

That is so stinking time while in target we were passing by the bra section and vail started screaming (literally) "mommy's breasts, mommy's breasts"

Reply April 2, 2008

Ok, between your post and these comments I've laughed so hard that I'm crying...and I'm sure Scott is out there feeling jealous that my blog surfing is more entertaining than his TV. ;) At any rate, if it makes you feel any better I've had an upside down carseat episode with Audra before...only I realized that she was buckled into her carseat, but I had forgotten to buckle her carseat into the car. OOPS!

Reply April 3, 2008

i think i might be peeing in my prego panties! amber haines..."you can't make this stuff up" this is YOUR life!
thank you for sharing.
aunt b

Reply April 3, 2008

{{Hugs!}} I'm not sure if you read my mention of my birth and those of my siblings, but when the 4th was born, my oldest sister was 4 1/2 years old. Our home was full of chaos, but lots of fun, laughter and messes. I had a great childhood. And I'll bet your kids are having one too.

Craig & Cindy
Reply April 3, 2008

I hate going to Wal-Mart and I don't even have kids. In fact, I'm trying hard to boycott Wal-Mart because I think it's an odious corporation. Thus, by extension, I hate Sam's. I can't imagine going there with children. Sheesh!!!

There. :)


Craig & Cindy
Reply April 3, 2008

I hate going to Wal-Mart and I don't even have kids. In fact, I'm trying hard to boycott Wal-Mart because I think it's an odious corporation. Thus, by extension, I hate Sam's. I can't imagine going there with children. Sheesh!!!

There. :)


Reply April 3, 2008

Oh, wow... but see, that's life worth writing about! good stuff!

re: Franz Wright
I actually submitted his poem The Walk to Burnside for their poetry month selections. Were y'all at UofA at the same time?

Jane @ What About Mom?
Reply April 4, 2008


We do the Costco lunch all the time because my girls love the samples and the fountain drinks are only 55 cents (w/ a million refills) and it was a cold, long winter.

I used to be sad that my girls were 'so' spaced out (7, 3, 1), but it sounds like it was probably a good thing, though you are going to be a wonderfully patient person (I mean, even moreso than you already are!).

I ran over the baby's fingers with the full cart last time we were at the store. Sometimes I wonder why no one threatens to take my children away from me -- probably because they're afraid I'd say, 'okay.'


Joy Hui
Reply April 7, 2008

oh, lordy, I got a taste of that babysitting my baby-niece Simone who was soooooo good (she was 6 months) for the first two hours -- we walked around the Met, but then the last hour she decided to cry like a banshee, and I felt like I was carrying a baby-bomb -- liable to start crying at the top of her lungs at any moment. i definitely felt estranged from larger society. i finally took a taxi back to my sister's place cos I was so exhausted and simone was hungry!

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