Author Archives: Jamie Cody


Happy Easter

I quit believing in the Easter Bunny on March 25, 1989. Because that’s the day my dad shot him. My sister and I had gone to bed like normal little girls after attending the Easter Vigil mass with my parents, … Continue reading


The Beauty of a Bath

This gallery contains 5 photos.

One of the things I never considered when I decided to become a parent was that I would spend an hour every evening sitting on the floor of my bathroom, bathing my children and letting them play in the water. … Continue reading


The Squeak

Squeaker turns a year old this month, and I’m at that weird place where part of me wants to say, “Where did the time go?” and the other part’s going, “Seriously? It’s only been a year?” Because, really, going from … Continue reading

The Great Milk-tastrophe of 2012

Tuesday, the hubby went back to work after a couple weeks of holidays and general slow times in his office, and he got home at the fairly normal hour of six. Dinner was just about ready, so he scooted off to change his clothes, but not before requesting chocolate milk for his drink with dinner.

We go through almost three gallons of milk a week (and that’s before Squeaker’s on cow milk), so when I drained one gallon before filling up both the hubby’s and my glasses, it was habit to drop the empty jug by the sink to get rinsed for the recycling bin, then grab a second jug from the fridge. I set the full, brand new milk jug on the counter, turned back to the fridge to do something (though I can’t for the life of me remember what), and I knocked into the milk.

The brand new, full gallon of milk, that I apparently hadn’t put all the way on the counter.

The brand new, full gallon of milk which promptly tumbled lid over bottom and landed straight on its head, exploding a seam and sending milk gushing all over my kitchen. Not just my  floor. My whole kitchen.

I lunged for the jug and carried the container, still bleeding milk, to my sink while shrieking loudly enough that I made Munchkin cry over spilled milk while Squeaker clapped at the unexpected entertainment. My sweet hubby did exactly what I would’ve done were the situation reversed.

He grabbed the camera. (While telling Munchkin we don’t cry over spilled milk. I mean, we had to, right?)

Please don't cry over my spilled milk

The Carnage

You didn’t miss the white speckles all over my cabinet doors, did you? Yeah. It was that bad.

Dinner was delayed, obviously, while I sopped up the milk and wiped down the cabinets. Munchkin got over crying over the milk and decided that the best course of action was to imitate Daddy. So he grabbed the little digital camera he got for Christmas and started clicking away while I cleaned up.

And do you know what picture my sweet little munchkin was proudest of?

“Mommy, I took a picture of your bottom.”

Picture omitted. You’re welcome.

Here’s hoping your 2012 started with a better, albeit as entertaining, bang.

Posted by Jamie Cody

The Joys of Family Travel

What happens when you combine two adults, a 3-year-old and a 9-month-old, two days in a car, a house full of extended family, and a holiday?

It depends on how many of them stay healthy. (The car did, just in case you were wondering.)

Squeaker started it. He got sick (all over me, thank you very much) the night before we left. But, like all good parents, we realized this was an opportunity to have the baby sleep more than normal in the car, so we packed a few extra (ultimately unnecessary) rolls of paper towels, and hit the road.

While Squeaker slept almost the whole way, Munchkin handled two days in the car just fine as well. He did confess, though, that, “Mommy, sometimes lizards freak me out.” Since we were headed north into the land of cold and rain, sans nice warm rocks for said lizards to sunbathe on, Munchkin had nothing to worry about.

Thanksgiving morning, Grandma (aka my energizer-bunny-wannabe mom) came down with whatever Squeaker had had. She had a dozen adults and a half-dozen kids coming for Thanksgiving dinner, and she was in no shape to cook. So my sisters and I stepped in and finished up what Grandma hadn’t pre-prepped (I meant that energizer-bunny-wannabe thing) (also, I cook a mean turkey) while calling the oldest and youngest guests to warn them of the Bacteria of Doom making its rounds. Only one cancelled, but the second-youngest guest of the day felt a little excluded in all the sickness, and joined in with some unfortunate contributions of her own. (Although in her case, that’s just what happens when you eat pink cookies for breakfast then get in the car for a 40-minute ride.)

Grandma was feeling better by Thanksgiving night, as was the toddler, so plans for Black Friday madness continued as scheduled, then my little family hit the road again. Just in time, too. Both my baby sister and my brother-in-law came down with the sickies as we were rolling out of town.

Add in the cat food our cats broke into while we were gone, the moldy dishes in the dishwasher that we forgot to run on our way out of the house the week before, and hubby coming down with I-Ate-Too-Much-Pizza-Itis our second day on the road trip home, and I can honestly say it was a Thanksgiving to remember.

And truly, I am thankful for the whole experience. Because our illnesses were temporary, our food was good, my sister proposed to my husband (proof that I got the better one 🙂 ), and I have stories to tell about the last two weeks for years to come.

Posted by Jamie Cody

Intergalactic Princess vs. Talking Zombie Food

Ever since I can remember, I’ve always had very vivid, lucid dreams. When I roll over in the morning and start a sentence with, “Hey, last night I dreamed…” the hubby braces himself. In my dreams, I’ve been a ninja, I’ve been on pirate ships, I’ve flown balloon airplanes, I’ve controlled bullets with my mind. I’ve hung out with my favorite TV and movie stars and certain members of the British royal family. What’s there to not love?

Considering how often Munchkin asks me to "put the potato's butt back on," I'm glad these guys haven't been in my dreams.

No Toys Were Harmed While Posing For This Pictorial Representation Of My Dreams.

My favorite dream ever happened several years ago. I was a newly-discovered intergalactic princess. If I didn’t stand on the right circle with the other intergalactic royalty on the magical space ship, it wouldn’t move.  One of my other jobs as an intergalactic princess was to take an alien husband. My real husband was okay with this. I mean, he understood my destiny, and he’s a really great guy. But choosing the alien husband was up to me.

I chose Stitch from the Disney movie, Lilo and Stitch. I told my husband about it when I woke up, and we’re still happily married, so I know I made the right choice ten years ago.

More recently, I had a brand new dream experience. I was fighting zombies. With shovels. But the stupid zombies didn’t realize they were supposed to die when I hit them with shovels, so I had to go find another weapon. When all else failed, what did I turn to?

Talking McDonalds’ hamburgers and french fries.

They were piled up in this muppet garden, all of them just jabbering away from their various places among the flowers and chocolate fountains. The garden had a muppet-ish feel to it, but let me tell you, the zombies were no match for talking food.

Even I was a little scared.

And that was after I woke up.

What’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?

Posted by Jamie Cody

Life in My Beeria

Hi, everybody! I’m so excited to be making my first post over the backyard fence today. It’s been terrific hanging out and learning about everyone the last few weeks.

I sometimes think my life is fairly boring, but anytime I make that mistake, my three-year-old, Munchkin, corrects me real quick. See, we don’t live in a house. According to Munchkin, we live in Beeria.

As far as I can tell, Beeria was born in Munchkin’s imagination when he didn’t understand the references to his daddy’s deployment to Liberia, Africa. Munchkin knows what beer is, though, thanks to his daddy’s beer brewing hobby. (It’s that yucky thing that daddies drink but mommies don’t like.)  The coolest part about Beeria? Munchkin makes the rules.

Rules such as, “Daddy, you have to listen to your wife in your Beeria.” And, “Mommy, you have to drink all your wine in your Beeria.” The ever important, “Don’t laugh when you have a burger in your hand in your Beeria,” must not be forgotten either. Also, ducks don’t wear shoes in Munchkin’s Beeria. Just in case you were wondering.

To infinity and beyond!

The Blue Angels in Munchkin's Beeria

In Beeria, we can go to Disneyworld after preschool, because it’s just around the corner instead of hours away. In Beeria, Pepperoni and Marshmallow Soup is normal. And in Beeria, everyone must yell, “To infinity and beyond!” when their planes take off.

Sometimes, Munchkin dreams about Beeria. Once, he told me, “There was a giraffe in my Beeria because I decided to catch him and shoot him. It was a big giraffe!” (After this one, I convinced him throwing imaginary snowballs was much better than shooting.)

Isn’t imagination a wonderful thing? If you could make up a rule for your own Beeria, what would it be?


Posted by Jamie Cody