Okay. Seven things. Here I am, and here’s Jen & co. Go see what they have to say– and have a great weekend!
Lexington turned 4 this week. It’s really freaky, and I don’t wanna talk about the ludicrously rapid span of time which sneaks by when you’re caught up in the moment of the “rough days” and they feel like it’s not budging. But I will talk about how I delight in the ridiculous things Lexington says as a little language learner. A few nights ago, we discussed the properties of pea juice while eating peas with lasagna. That’s one subject I’ve never discussed in my life. Just check it off the bucket list, then.
Sometimes I have a looped nightmare (identical to a Vine) of either my 2 year old or my 9 month old eternally twisting after I’ve changed a diaper, while I’m trying to force each leg back into pant legs which have impossibly knotted themselves while still around each ankle. If a secret spy agency ever needed to torture me for information, just sit me in front of two rubber poles continually twisting and wriggling, and make me put pants on them.
“okay–OKAY! IT’S HALF OF A PACKAGE OF INSTANT VANILLA PUDDING –OH PLEASE, GOD, STOP- LET IT STOP!!!!”
About 2 years ago, I found excellent foam pillows at Bed Bath & Beyond. But after a year of waking up each morning with my head not on my pillow, I am now wondering if the pillow is too good for me.
As in: “Remove thy head from mine royal grounds or I shall expel thee on mine own accord, ye head of coffee grounds.”
As in: my head chronically rolls off the pillow.
So either I have a bowling ball head, or my pillow thinks itself above me. The knave.
Spring and summer means the annoying presence of motorcyclists. I can’t see you. Don’t you get how dangerous you are being, you lover of the wind in your hair, you!? You, lover of the wind-in-your-hair, cycle sans helmet?!
But WORST OF ALL, is the casual, cool, obnoxiously secret little hand signal motorcyclists display when they pass each other on the road.
Do they offer me, mom in an SUV full of kids, this cool, peace sign as I pass by???
No. No they don’t.
I am offended by their elitist parading of all the wind in all their hairs.
SO. Moms in minivans and SUVs… lets parade our kid’s snot in our hairs by our own cool …umm… yeah…
Maybe motorcyclists are too cool for mommas, but… A few weeks ago I was at the mall with my little fam and mom-in-law looking for Crocs for our boys (Dont even get me started. They’re easy to put on, wash, and dry. ‘swhy we do em.). I, the fast walker, had marched ahead of my husband and MIL who were strolling our oldest two. I was wearing Collin in the ergo. The Ergobaby, while wonderfully comfortable, is not something one wants to wear to look pretty, but I don’t care anymore.
So, I’m marching along, baby strapped to my front, my mouth hanging partially open as I gaze at the mall’s upper level from below, when my eye catches a sudden jerking movement about 10 yards in front of me. Two dudes, one who looked dead on Will.I.Am (hair cut, glasses, you name it), busted out a Michael Jackson dance move into the clearing in front of me, lunged at me (remember: mouth gaping, baby strapped to my front), and short of having a dance seizure, blurted out, “you GOR-geous!” And they continued about their business, whatever it might’ve been …dancing at tired looking moms, sure.
I, the one who all too easily shows the cold, frigid shoulder complete with an icy distant stare toward ridiculous public outbursts, stopped in my tracks suddenly aware of my mouth-breather expression, and smiled and laughed. Sometimes I forget I’m a female in her 20’s.
Father’s day. It’s Sunday. If you haven’t gotten a gift for the Dads in your life yet, don’t worry, I found the best gift EVER for ol’ Daddio. But hurry, it looks like they’re going quick!
…or my personal favorite:
*mwah!* “Have a good day at work, honey!”