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How to Headbutt (According to a Toddler)

Posted on Jan 13, 2016 in Uncategorized

How to Headbutt (According to a Toddler) 0

James here.

It’s been awhile since I’ve made an appearance on this blog, but I’ve been working on my headbutts lately and I think I’ve really perfected my technique. I’m here now because I want to share my skills with you. It just doesn’t feel right to keep this knowledge from my other toddler friends looking to fight the man. Or the mom.

You know when your mom is all up in your face, trying to snuggle and smother you with kisses and you’re just like, “WOMAN, I NEED MY SPACE!” but you can’t quite talk yet? (I like my snuggles when I like my snuggles, okay?. Usually around 2:30 AM. Get over it.) Or maybe you’re happily coloring on the walls, expressing yourself, and your mom tries to take away your Sharpies. Or, like, you’re scaling up bookshelves and your mom decides she needs to remove you. I know you have so many things you want to say to her that you just can’t. Well, the headbutt is the perfect form of nonverbal communication to get your point across.  And there are so many ways to do it! These are my top three favorite. I hope you find them useful.

1) The Head-to-Head Headbutt: This is the classic headbutt. Simple, but powerful. Say your mom is all up in your grill – and you are NOT having that – this is the fastest way to get her to back off. First, as she nuzzles up in your face flash her your cutest smile. That way she won’t know what’s coming. You want the element of surprise here. Then quickly – speed is key – arch your neck back and WA-BAM! Connect your forehead to hers in one swift movement. The best part of this headbutt is that it will totally stun her, but won’t hurt you a bit. I can’t explain why. Just God’s gift to toddlers, I suppose.

2) The Backwards-Butt: This one is a little more tricky, because you’re usually attacking from a defensive position. Like if your mom tries to get you out of the bath BEFORE YOU’VE HAD A CHANCE TO PEE IN IT. The nerve of these parents, I swear. Anyway. Say she’s got her arms wrapped around your torso, trying to forcibly remove you from the bath (along with all the joy in your life) and you’re wriggling and writhing to get out of her grip – stop. Just stop. You’re fighting a losing battle, kid. Instead, calm yourself, relax your body. Your mom will think she’s won. Then snap your neck back, connecting the back of your head with your aggressor’s mouth. This one’s a doozy. If you hit with just the right amount of force, there might be some blood. Or maybe even a loose tooth! One can hope!

I look harmless, but I will (upper) cut you!

I look harmless, but I will (upper) cut you!

3) The Uppercut-Butt: This is my personal favorite, but use sparingly as this may cause long-term damage. Ultimately, your mom still has to feed you and stuff, so you don’t want to inflict too much pain. Say your mom is coming at you from above to pick you up to put you to bed, or something equally offensive. You’re always going to be at a disadvantage here because of your height deficiency, so you have to play to your strengths. Like jumping. Toddlers got mad jumping game, amiright? On beds or couches, off of counters (or any high surface), into ball pits, whatever – we know how to jump. So when your mom crouches down to lift you into your arms, LEAP, BROTHER! LEAP AT HER! Now is not the time to play it safe. YOU MIGHT END UP IN BED AT A REASONABLE HOUR. Use all your might and propel yourself up, so that BOOM! The top of your head connects with your mom’s chin. Be aware of your surroundings, because if your mother had already grabbed onto you, she will likely drop you. No matter. Ain’t no one going to bed now, sucka!

A personal anecdote: I used this one last week, and the force from my hit traveled from my mom’s chin to her left jaw. She started squawking about some surgery she had years ago and the screws holding her jaw together and how if she needs reconstructive surgery to fix anything it’s coming out of MY college tuition. If you ask me, it was all a tad dramatic. I mean, she was able to chew again a mere 12 hours later. And there wasn’t even visible bruising. Sheesh.  I’m just telling you this as a warning – if you have a drama mama, tread carefully. You might be better off with the classic headbutt.

Cheers!

James

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GIVEAWAY: Origami Owl

Posted on Feb 8, 2014 in Uncategorized

GIVEAWAY: Origami Owl 3

Hey Friends. Guess what? It snowed today. A lot.  Actually, it’s still snowing.  All the good parents of Atsugi took their kids out to play in the winter wonderland, while I was like, “Sorry, Kid.  It’s too damn cold.”  I enjoyed an indoor day, warm and dry, while – miracle of all miracles – Elisabeth napped for THREE HOURS.  I think I win this snow day. I’m guessing my U.S. readers know something about cold right now. Except the Californians. I hate you guys sometimes. But for everyone else who is stuck in freezing misery, I have something that might lift your spirits.  Free stuff! That’s right – I’m doing my first giveaway!  My friend Michelle is an independent designer for the jewelry line Origami Owl.  She has graciously offered one of my readers the beautiful silver locket pictured below. Perfect for Valentine’s Day, right?! Ok, given that it’s already February 8th, you probably won’t receive it by Valentine’s day, but perfect for adding a little cheer into this endless, dreadful winter, right?! Mommas, this can be a well-deserved gift to yourself.  Fellas, this could be a belated Valentine’s day gift after you either forget/screw up the actual gift you give your lady.  Either way, anyone can and should enter by doing the following. 1) “Like” My Kid Stole My Cool on Facebook 2) Follow @DianaLoveless1 on Twitter  (Yes I tweet.  I can hardly believe it myself.) 3) “Like” Michelle’s Origami Owl page on Facebook 4) Comment directly on this blog post telling me the best Valentine’s Day gift is you’ve ever been given.  Uh, I can’t actually answer that, so feel free to tell me the worst Valentine’s Day gift you’ve ever been given. Or gifted to someone else! That’s much more fun… Each of the above will get you one entry, meaning you have the chance to enter multiple times!  And if you want to check out more of Michelle’s merchandise, check out her website! The winner will be announced on February 14th.  Good luck!   P.S. Damon eventually took Elisabeth out in the snow so she...

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How to Embarrass Yourself: The Fitness Instructor Edition

Posted on May 1, 2013 in Uncategorized

How to Embarrass Yourself: The Fitness Instructor Edition 4

Several months ago I got my group fitness certification.  The sole reason I got this group fitness certification was so that I could instruct a stroller fitness class on base.  Stroller Strides this is not, but it’s better than nothing. I started teaching back in March.  And all of a sudden I had this new identity.  I was no longer just a Stay-At-Home Mom or Navy Wife or Blogger Extraordinaire or whatever else you fine readers think of me.  I was now a Fitness Instructor. Every Monday and Friday morning my fellow moms and I gather at a park, let our children run around unsupervised while we lunge and squat and crunch and whatnot, and I channel my inner Jillian Michaels and shout at them all to, “PUSH THROUGH THE PAIN!” Not really.  I’m not that intense. Here’s the thing.  I don’t look like a legit fitness instructor.*  Well, unless your fitness instructors eat ice cream every night.  Then maybe I look like a fitness instructor.  But you know who I’m talking about – the fitness instructors with -5% body fat that walk around wearing booty shorts showing off their insanely muscular thighs while drinking protein shakes and talking about how many reps they just did.  I don’t look like that kind of fitness instructor.  I don’t even own booty shorts. So if I can’t look the part, I should act the part, right?  Try to be a paragon of healthy, fit living so I’m not a total charlatan?  Sure. Right. But that’s just not me.  The other night I was shopping at the mini-mart on base.  And who did I run into but a woman who had just started coming to my class.  This was only my third time meeting her.  The first was at stroller class, the second was at Booze Fest 2013 Book Club, and then this time, at the mini-mart.  And what was I buying? In case the picture is hard to make out, that’s three bottles of wine, a bag of chips, and chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.  And that, my friends, is...

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My Beijing “Vacation”

Posted on Apr 10, 2013 in Travel Traumas, Uncategorized

My Beijing “Vacation” 3

How do you define a vacation? For Damon, vacation means he is on official leave.  Time and place don’t matter. For me, vacation means I’m lying by the beach/pool/someplace warm with trashy magazine an intellectual book in one hand and an adult beverage in the other.  Preferably one with an umbrella in it. So when Damon got home from work on Wednesday evening (the night before we left for Beijing) and exclaimed, “We’re on vacation!” I had to disagree with him. Unless he was going to fold two loads of laundry and pack five days worth of clothes, extra clothes, diapers, wipes, medicine, portable snacks, and toddler entertainment, we were certainly not on vacation. Though I don’t agree with Damon’s mentality, I understand it.  When I had a paying job, vacation meant time off that job and usually travel somewhere to enjoy that time off.  But since my job now is rearing a child, I’m not technically on vacation until I am away from my child.  Which is pretty much never. So while our trip to Beijing was a truly great trip (despite my lack of planning), I wouldn’t call it a vacation. Because to me, a vacation is not: -Getting practically cavity searched at the airport because you’ve packed baby food pouches in your carry on. (That didn’t actually happen on this trip, but it has in the past.) -Flying on a several hour flight with a sweaty toddler attached to your chest. -Washing poopy onesies out by hand in your hotel bathroom’s sink -Waking every morning between 3:45-4:45AM because your baby will only go back to sleep if she is sharing your twin bed with you, squeezing your face, neck, chest and arm fat until your entire upper body is numb.  (But not your husband, who sleeps comfortably in the other twin bed, oblivious to the arm-fat squeezing happening to you a few feet away.) -Eating in mediocre restaurants that your tour company has pre-arranged. -Anxiety that your family is going to be killed because the van you’re riding in has no seatbelts and the driver likes...

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That Time I Forgot My Vacation

Posted on Apr 3, 2013 in Travel Traumas, Uncategorized

That Time I Forgot My Vacation 4

I realize I’ve been a bit MIA recently.  Damon was gone on detachment in Australia for three weeks, the better part of which either Elisabeth and I were battling illness at home in Japan.  We’ve been busy with other things as well: I hosted Damon’s squadron for Easter brunch, which brought out first-birthday party levels of Diana Craziness.  And we’re going on vacation to Beijing tomorrow.  Which I sort of forgot about. Okay, I didn’t actually forget about it.  I just kind of pushed it to the back of my mind.  Party planning will do that to me.  Easter brunch > Beijing vacation.  That’s not really true.  Only sometimes in my head it is.  I know, I’m twisted.  To be fair, we did have a very helpful travel agent organize pretty much our entire trip.  All I had to do was approve our itinerary and fill out unholy amounts of paperwork to secure our visas.  Let me tell you, securing visas to China is no easy feat.  Especially when you have a toddler who does not want to have her visa photos taken.  See below. So last night I had a moment of, “Oh, crap!  We’re leaving for China in two days and I don’t even have a guidebook!”  Who goes to a foreign country for the first time without even a guidebook?  I could say I’m just really adventurous and like to fly by the seat of my pants, take the road less traveled, see where life takes me.  But that’s not true.  I like a plan.  And I like guidebooks. So today’s quest became about finding a guidebook.  But first I had a spouse club meeting.  Then I had a luncheon planning committee meeting.  Then I had to go pay some road tax.  I have no idea what exactly a road tax is, all I know is that paying for it is a somewhat tedious process.  First I had to wait in a long line to present all sorts of documentation that proves… I dunno.  That we have insurance?  That our car is fit to be on the...

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The Good Stuff

Posted on Mar 26, 2013 in Uncategorized

I stopped nursing Elisabeth last week.  And it couldn’t have happened at a better time.  Because shortly thereafter, I came down with (Elisabeth passed along to me) a nasty cold.  And for the first time since I was pregnant – the first time in TWO YEARS – I was able to take real meds.  When you’re pregnant or breastfeeding, your medicinal options are pretty much restricted to Tylenol.  And most of the time, Tylenol just doesn’t hack it.  Oh, there’s also Benedryl.  However if you like to be conscious during the day, Benedryl is not always a good choice.  Now, though – now my options for Over The Counter meds were endless! Giddy with excitement, I hit up the drug store.  I peered up through watery eyes at the rows and rows of pills, sprays, and syrups.  I carefully inspected the labels between sneezing fits.  With so many possibilities, how would I choose?  Multi-symptom cold medicine?  Cold & Flu gel caps?  Drowsy or non-drowsy cough syrup?  I noticed a bright orange label affixed on many of the boxes: “DMX”.  What was this DMX?  I saw you could only buy two of these products at a time and that ID was required for purchase.  I still had no idea what it was, but clearly it was the good stuff.  I grabbed the Robitussin with the mysterious “DMX” label and a package of Dayquil and Nyquil capsuls for good measure. Back at home I eagerly ripped open an individual Nyquil dosage.  Dang they make those little packets hard to open!  Had those tiny, perforated lines always been so hard to tear, or had my hands grown weak after two years of medicinal abstention?  I eventually pried open the package and swallowed the pills.  That night was glorious.  Instead of waking five, six times with a hacking cough, I only awoke two.  The wonders of modern medicine! Early in that morning – 4AM or so – I needed another dose.  But it was too late to take another Nyquil.  Damon was gone* and I had a child who would be awake in...

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