Tag Archives: Benadryl

Child Eating Squirrels – aka Childproofing

29 May

Dear G-D, (or whomever is residing over all things good)

Today I am feeling especially thankful.
No, I am not under the influence of any mind altering substances.

The List:

1. Summer Camp. If it wasn’t for the bright light of camp starting just a week after school gets out, I would have nothing to strive for. Even if I had to pay in teeth, I would get myself some dentures and write the check.

2. The family across the street. They have five children. The screaming that comes from that house makes the screaming that comes from my house seem much less painful.

3. Froyolife. It is my reward, my comfort, and my hangout. It is also my reason for still having those last 10 pounds. It’s fine, I can blame my hips on the twins.

4. Hot Dogs. Without these disgusting excuses for food my son might actually starve. Literally.

5. Black Tights. I can wear a skirt that leaves little to the imagination without being “THAT Mom.”

6. Benadryl. Because I know that if worse comes to worse, and I can’t take another minute of my psychotic children, I can always break out the “allergy medicine.”

7. Kat Dennings, Christina Hendricks, and Catherine Zeta Jones. For reminding me that I am not fair haired, bronze skinned, a size 2, or a flat chested waif and I am finally (FINALLY) finally alright with that.

8. The Crossing Guards of Beverly Hills. Without them I would definitely be serving a life sentence after killing some moron in a Maserati racing through a school crosswalk. I don’t give a flying fu–how much you paid for that car, slow down loser.

9. The Squirrels that live in the trees in our front yard. When JH, my 3 year old son tries to escape the house via the front door when I’m not looking, all I have to yell is, “I hope the squirrels don’t get you!” Works every time.

10. My 3 little monkeys. They show me how absolutely wonderful life is. They make me want to be a better Woman, a better Mother, and an example to them of how to live life as it is meant to be lived. They have shown me that life is meant to be lived not just endured.



Flying With Kids – aka Torture In The Sky

25 Jun

My 2 year old twins have never been on airplane and I intend to keep it that way. By the time HB was their age she had been to Canada and Hawaii twice. The difference is that I know better this time around. Flying with children is like asking to be tortured. Slowly.
Parents are always suckered into traveling with a baby by friends and family. They claim that it won’t be too bad if you just plan ahead and are prepared. That’s like prepping for a tornado by putting on your seatbelt and covering your eyes. No matter how geared up you are there is nothing that can stop a baby from going ballistic at 30,000 feet. If you think for a second that your fellow air travelers will help you out, think again. When it comes to a screaming infant the skies aren’t so friendly. Half the people on the plane, even those with kids will gladly strap a parachute to your back and eject you baby and all. Every parent has their own tips and tricks, I have tried them all and traveling with a kid still sucks.

When talking air travel the first thing other parents will usually bring up is Benadryl. Some claim that drugging your child is the only way to comfortably fly. What those people fail to mention is that some kids have the opposite reaction and became extremely hyper. You’ll never guess what reaction HB had to the Benadryl on our 6 hour flight when she was 20 months old…

The second thing that well meaning friends will tell you to do is pack lots of snacks. That is a fantastic idea unless of course your child suffers from motion sickness. I learned that HB suffered from this horrid condition after she vomited up what seemed like gallons of fishy crackers at LAX.

The other point always shared is the secret tip about the bulkhead. Guess what? I appreciate the tip but unless the bulkhead has a playground attached to it it’s not going to make that much of a difference.

Now that I have 3 kids my rule for travel is: No airplane until you can carry your own luggage and hold your own barf bag. I’ll stick with road trips for now. I like to know that I can pull over at any time and run screaming like a lunatic from the car without it being a felony.


As always, comments and questions are welcome. Do you dare to travel with your kids?

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