Quarterlife+


Why I should never have writer’s block: A trip to the doctor gone terribly wrong

Posted in children by Ashley Franklin on July 24, 2015
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My kids are a gold mine for ideas! They are truly ridiculous, and it’s natural. I am known for getting into ridiculous situations for no reason whatsoever (like the time a deer almost ran me over as I sat in the front yard). Surely you recall some of the foolishness that I’ve tweeted or posted about on Facebook.

Well, yesterday was absolutely AWFUL. It was so bad that the Twitter character restrictions wouldn’t suffice. I’ve got to be able to pull a story out of this foolishness. Here’s how it all went down:

The appointment was for the middle of the afternoon, so that should’ve been a clear indication that we were doomed. Nevertheless, I remained optimistic.  We were all set to be 5 minutes early, and then the universe remembered that it was my family. We spent ten minutes looking for my shoes. I’ll admit that regrettable things were said like:

“Dear God, you’re gonna force me to be that parent that takes a kid out in slippers.”  and

“but my feet have socks though” and

“I wish you and your 3-year-old feet were with your father right now.”

and “Find em Mommy, you can do it!” and

“Obviously I can’t, son!”

The shoes were eventually found (mysteriously under my bed). Skipping past the inevitable fight over doctor’s office wooden toys, things were good for all of twenty minutes while we waited to see the doctor. Two minutes later, the baby threw up because it was hot in the room.My 3-year-old conned a nurse our of some lollipops and continued to run in circles after seeing how much of the pointless table paper he could unroll while I cleaned up hurl in shame.

[Enter the doctor] The baby channels the Jack-Jack attack, freeing her from her doctor tools. More pointless table paper is shed with my 3-year-old laughing gleefully at the scene. The doctor comments on the baby’s brute strength, he hurls again, and she quickly leaves. I cannot describe to you how I smell. I could, but it wouldn’t be fair to you.

[Enter unsuspecting woman]  She pricks his finger to collect some blood, which promptly infuriates him all over again. Naturally, he snatches the blood catching device and flings it across the room. I apologize yet again as my 3-year-old looks on as I hang my head in shame.

He still went on to get his immunization shots, as he was only hurling because it was sweaty-crotch hot in there. One lollipop later, we were scurrying to the car.

Oh, and not to leave without a lasting impression, the 3-year-old bangs on the receptionist’s window to get her attention: “Hey, I got a lollipop!”

Here’s a better question: Why didn’t anyone give me a lollipop? Needless to say, I am NOT looking forward to the baby’s 15-month checkup. But hey, things can only get better. Right?

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5 things I’ve learned from my baby&toddler

Posted in Uncategorized by Ashley Franklin on May 25, 2015
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5. Jumping up and down on a bed never gets old.

4. My toddler is the grand interpreter of all the baby’s needs.

3. To a toddler, sharing means letting you play with whatever he doesn’t want at the moment.

2. The child equivalent of walk it off is run faster like it never happened.

1. Fight or flight occurs whenever they get a whiff of any time of sleep or rest.

At the ages of 10 months and 3 years, my boys keep me busy. Keeping these moments of truth in my back pocket helps to keep me sane.

What child truths have you stumbled upon in this crazy journey called parenting?

Friggin say Mama!

Posted in Uncategorized by Ashley Franklin on May 24, 2015
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My walking, full of fun baby makes all types of sounds and frequently imitates sounds that he hears. He makes an awesome truck sound! He has also said dada for quite some time. I can’t begin to tell you how infuriating I find that. We’re 10 months into this whole life with a new baby thing, and the boy calls me absolutely nothing. He’ll walk up to me and fling his arms up. He’ll pat me. He will not make any sound in my general direction.

To be fair, my toddler didn’t call me anything for a while. When he finally did, he called me Bubba. As much as I couldn’t stand Bubba, I’d totally take it right about now.

I know what you’re probably thinking: Just get the toddler to say mama. Yeah…tried it and it didn’t work. The baby just sat there tight-lipped.

As much as I would love for him to say Mama, I guess it’s cool that he hasn’t. In a way, he’s growing up so fast, it kind of reminds me that he’s still a baby. Why do I say that? He’s been walking for well over a month and he’s the size of a toddler. Sometimes the days with my kids seem like an eternity, but when I look at my 3yo, I see just how quickly time passes.

When a Swiffer just ain’t a Swiffer

Posted in Life,Writing by Ashley Franklin on April 8, 2015
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I love my Swiffer. Ever since I worked at a daycare and found myself using one daily, it’s like my bestie. (Looking back at that sentence makes me a little sad.) I love the scent of Gain, which makes Swiffering (Is that a word?) that much more fun for me. The only cleaning supply I love more are my Lysol disinfectant wipes. I will wipe down something in a  nano something. I literally freak out if I run out. To me, the ideal marriage would be to have the little Swiffer refill pad things with Lysol. I think it’s a no-brainer.

Sorry! That’s enough about my unnatural love for a mopping instrument. Well, kind of. Let’s talk about the fact that I”m the only one that uses it as a mop. I regularly have to save the Swiffer from my kids. No matter where I put it, they find it. It’s like they have a tracking device on the thing. In what situations would I need to save the Swiffer from a 3-year-old? Here go a few:

(charging towards the chandelier with the Swiffer high in the air) “That’s not a piñata; Swiffer down!”

“Get it off the edge of the sofa! It’s not a slide!”

“Don’t charge at closed doors with it!”

I’ll spare you any more. Now, the baby is much kinder to it. He takes the handle and just shakes it up and down at different speeds. I don’t know what it is to him, but he gets a kick out of it every single time.

So why am I the only one not having that kind of fun with the thing? Did my kids steal my imagination? I promise you that i have not looked at it once with a “What if?” I know for a fact that I used to ooze imaginative chaos. I mean, I’m the same person that once drew up the 10 Commandments on a whim out of stick figures. Now my ideas come out like brain vomit. I’ll have nothing for the longest, and then all of a sudden it’s flowing out of me for like a solid twenty minutes. And…then we’re back to nothing.

Maybe I”m thinking too hard. Maybe I’m not thinking hard enough. Maybe it’s time for pie and ice cream. Yeah, I’ll contemplate over the first two while I get a bowl for that last one. Now there was an idea that I was quick to put into motion.

There goes a spanker!

Posted in children,Life by Ashley Franklin on October 4, 2011
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To be completely racist and unintentionally racist at the same time, I’ve always found white people amazing for the most part-particularly white parents. Here’s why: I’ve never known any white people who got spanked as a child. I’ve been around white people my entire life-moreso than black people. While I’m sure that are some white parents who spank, just as I’m sure there are some black parents who don’t spank, I have not come into contact with any of them. How do they do it?

If you don’t know, I LOVE Katt Williams. One of my faves is when he says maybe black folk should stop beating their kids… publicly and does a bit about a mom beating her kid over the kid wanting some skittles.  (I’m telling you now, don’t click on that link if you’re sensitive to foul language. You’ve been warned.)

So my overarching question is this: how do you discipline your kids if you don’t spank them? Like, if you and your spouse both come from homes were spanking (or beating) was okay but decide it’s not for you, how on earth do you discipline your kids without going back to what you’re accustomed to? Having worked at a daycare, I’ve seen many a child laugh at time out, come out worse from it, and even give thankful praise for the privilege of having time to sit alone (that’s another story). 

So dear reader, were you spanked as a child, and if so, did you decide to spank your kids as well? If you’re not a spanker, how do you go about disciplining your child?If you haven’t had children yet, what’s your take? I’m just a little curious.