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DFW Moms

Wet Behind the Ears


So motherhood can be a bit messy. Not always in the peanut butter sense, but in the uncertainty and self-questioning sense of things. If you can relate, keep reading. Find me here: Twitter (@BehindTheEars) or Facebook (Wet Behind the Ears).


  • She's Three. Help. Me

      Email Tonight Madeline snuggled with me on the couch 45 minutes after dinner. Still wearing her princess dress and fresh off a crying jag caused by a run-in with Drew, she was done with the day. So was I. After a 12-hour drive home the day before from Colorado, I was still feeling fuzzy, disembodied and ready for someone to feed me dark chocolate in a Grecian fashion. I noticed Maddie chewing something small in the back of her mouth, maybe a tiny white Chickl...

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  • Princess and the Potty

        Email Yesterday I received news you dream of hearing. It wasn’t that I had won the lottery, or that I had become fully hydrated without having to drink water, or that John Krasinski had become my fan on Facebook. It was that Madeline had gone pee-pee in the potty at preschool. It’s a first. For weeks, she has been admiring her Minnie Mouse panties from afar, talking about them as though she were already a veteran panty-wearer. &ldqu...

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  • Review: Casa's 'Seussical Jr.' a sweet, silly celebration

    The musical brings the best-loved Seuss story lines and characters to life.

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  • Review: Casa's "Disney's Winnie The Pooh, Kids"

    Casa Manana delivers a sweet-as-honey production.

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  • Hello, My Name Is (sort of complicated)

        Email I drove my little self over to the neighborhood elementary school today and wrote Drew’s name down on a sheet of paper. The paper said, “I want my boy to be in Kindergarten here,” but with a lot more words, and then with the Spanish translation of the words. I wrote his name down approximately three times, far fewer times than when you make a will or purchase real estate. I also produced proof that Drew is a little boy and...

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  • Thin Cuss or Regular?

        Email     Email I always wondered when Drew would utter his first cuss word. Perhaps he would be a teenager breaking off his side mirror at a drive-through while buying hamburgers for a homeless child. Or maybe he would be a young, responsible adult burning his finger on a hot skillet while making bacon for me. Anything done in the name of bacon is excusable, this we know for sure. Maybe Drew’s first cuss w...

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  • Review: Casa's 'Rapunzel! Rapunzel!'

    There’s plenty of merriment to go around in Casa Mañana Theatre's production of Rapunzel.

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  • Knee-Deep in Bloody Bonding

        Email The worst thing Madeline can imagine in the entire universe, and then beyond to the universes outside of our known universe, and then on into oblivion, is hurting her knee. She hurt it once. Both knees, really. Fell BAM on the concrete driveway like a linebacker lunging (and missing) his target. The cold SLAP of her bare knees and hands was unapologetic. Laying there like a frozen whale languishing on the beach, Madeline let out a whale (re...

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  • Do Zen and Pediatric Dentistry Go Together? A Tale of Awestruck Angst.

        Email If you were to tell me the activities on today’s agenda a week ago, I would have thought that Satan and his worst demons had collaborated on the itinerary. Dentist. Mall. Chuck-E-Cheese. Gordon leaving me at home with Both Things for a two-day conference. Laundry. Even just the first item, Dentist, would have been enough to strike fear and compulsory cheese-eating. The last time I blogged about taking Drew to the dentist, I describe...

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  • Is Your 2013 As Boring As Mine?

    As I look ahead to 2013, or, to the remaining 361 days of it, I’m a little nervous. This is the first year in a long time where I haven’t been expecting a baby or planning a big vacation, a move, or a coup d’etat. Sure, there might be a show or two, there might be one or two weekend getaways, there might be adventures and surprises. But nothing on the books. The dark maw of the year needs a little lantern light. I don’t know why. I hate how I live for m...

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  • What's in a (Nick) Name? I Shudder to Think.

        Email There was a time when I thought nicknames were limited to “Honey,” “Darlin’” (no g, ever), and “Sugar.” Those were the ones I heard my grandparents use the most, and it was sort of lovely to be lumped in with all the other Darlin’s in the family — that no matter who you were, you were Darlin’ just like sister Liz is Darlin’ and mom is Darlin’ and Aunt Julie is Darlin&r...

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  • My Kids Belong on "Downton Abbey."

    My Kids Belong on “Downton Abbey.”     Email It might just be that I am obsessed with “Downton Abbey,” but I really think Drew is developing into a British aristocrat. First, he has begun speaking in the third person. “Drew would yike a cup of yemonade, Mr. Mommy; Drew is scared; Drew went to the yittle park yesterday.” His speech therapist says he might be substituting “Drew” for “I” b...

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  • Blanket Statements: Is her lovie going too far?

    I don’t remember sucking my thumb or carrying a lovie around. Do you? My sister had a tattered blanket that she ended up taking to college with her, and I would be willing to bet $100 that she kept it balled up underneath her pillow in the army housing just last month while she was in chaplaincy training. While Drew would only accept the green hospital-grade pacifiers, he gave them up like an old toy by his one-year birthday. He doesn’t even ask for his blanket at night anym...

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  • Shutting Down: When Mothering is Just Too Much

        Email Have you ever completely shut down as a mother? I have. I’ve been doing it more and more these days. At the annual grandmother’s Halloween party this week, Drew flew off into a rage after missing the hayride. He had refused to go on the hayride, but the instant the big rubber wheels started rolling over the gravel, Drew collapsed in self-loathing and regret. I was riding on the hayride holding Madeline in my lap. The other chi...

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  • Meeting Kristin Chenoweth: A Memoir

      Share Email Sometimes you just have to sigh. On Saturday, I met one of my all-time idols, Kristin Chenoweth. With her chipmunk voice, springy body and Barbie blonde locks, she was everything I’ve always thought her to be. I also learned that I am a Shrek-ish ogre, or at least that was my impression standing there with my arm wrapped around her bird shoulder. “I could crush her,” I thought. “I could crush her into gold dust, her an...

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  • Swatting at Life

      Share Email As Gordon, the kids and I were walking home last evening from a dusk family stroll, a minivan pulled up to us and stopped. When the window rolled down, the streetlamp illuminated the face of a woman I know from church. Her hair was pulled back into what might have been a ponytail or a bun, and she had no makeup on. She was smiling strangely, a little wildly, and before we could enter into and emerge out of small talk, she said, “I just...

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  • First Things First: Drew Turns 5

      Share Email On the eve of Thing One’s 5th birthday, I am reflective. I’m thinking back to the moment at 9:06 a.m. on January 18, 2007, when, alone and shaking in the bathroom, I discovered that I would be a mother. I told no one, not even Gordon. The day was chilly and rainy; a cold shock of adrenaline coursed through me every time I remembered the good news, which was minute-ly. The night before, I had had a dream that was so alive with col...

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  • Whine and Beer

      Share Email Even a whole month after returning from Italy, Drew will whisper to me, “Mister Mommy, I missed you so much in Italy.” He says this at night when Gordon is reading to Madeline as I recline on the floor of her room. Drew sprawls out across my chest, pinching the loose skin on my slack elbows. “I missed you too,” I say back. That boy is just too much. I’m ready to melt away like a hot lava stream whenever he looks...

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  • Don't Settle for a Closet. Even a Walk-In.

      Share Email Drew likes to play God in Madeline’s life. He opens and shuts doors. He calls her name from faraway places. He determines if and when she can have a snack, if and when she should get up from her nap, if and when she is allowed to speak. Drew likes to control all of these things. Problem is, he has to get through me first. Sometimes I listen in on their TV room conversations, and when I say “conversations” I really mean alt...

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  • The Flat Plain

      Share Email I suppose that FUNK would be the right word. You get back from a trip, come down from a show, and head full-steam into a week of child rearing like a bull in a China shop. No preschool, no schedule; just the vast expanse of weary days, a flat plain of peanut butter sandwiches. At once, it seems obvious how predictable this is; try drinking a strawberry Slurpee and not crashing after 5 p.m. When life is a Slurpee, it might be invigorating and...

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