I Need a Re-Do.

Dear Diary,

     Either I am rapidly becoming more absent minded as time passes, or life is playing a nasty trick on me.

     I also think I need a re-do of yesterday. And the day before.

     It began the night we returned home from a long holiday trip. My mom had sewn me up a "rice pack" as we call them. You know, those things you pop in the microwave and they keep your feet warm or whatever? Well, our recently neglected house cooled down to 64 degrees while we were away. I was more than excited for this rice pack to be done warming up. That dang thing must have known how cold I truly was because not only did it get warm, it lit itself on fire. This is the fourth fire I have single handedly caused inside my home within the last 12 months. I took the pack outside per my husband's request and it took me a good couple of minutes to stomp out the embers with a shoe. The metal plating on the inside of the microwave had a hole burned right through it. My house reeked of burnt rice. And I was cold the rest of the night.

     The next day, I had a million back-to-reality errands to run, including hitting up The Home Depot to fix my $40 Walmart microwave. The afternoon quickly approached us and down went my toddler for nap time. I ran outside real quick to take some plastics to my recycle bin. (I am such a good citizen, saving the earth one Dr. Pepper bottle at a time.) When I came back, I discovered I had locked myself out of the house, because the sliding glass door clicked shut behind me. My crying 11 month old was on the other side of the glass and I could see both my cell phone and the only spare key we had sitting on the counter top. Just my luck. I ran to the neighbors. They weren't home. Ran to the neighbor 2 doors down who I had yet to meet. He was working in his garage and seemed less than enthused to meet me for the first time. Let me tell you that, "Hi, I'm your new neighbor and I locked myself out of my house with my two babies inside" is a great ice breaker of a sentence. I recommend it. Ten minutes and one sexy husband later, my front door was opened and all was right with the world. 

     As my husband was about to head back to work, I popped a gum ball in my mouth I found on the counter top. As I was chewing it, it completely disintegrated in my mouth, leaving all sorts of nasty in the grooves of my molars. So fun to undo. Note: Do not eat anything your toddler has held in his hand for a long period of time. It's gross and it might melt in your mouth.

     Here's hoping tomorrow doesn't bring as many face-palming moments. 

Sincerely, 

 






ME. 

How Do You Shower?

Dear Diary, 

     I found this on Facebook the other day, but could not link it back to an original "poster" to give them credit. It was titled, "How to Shower Like a Woman". And although I don't take detailed showers like this woman, the explanation of the man's shower is my husband to a tee. Is it yours as well? I swear someone must have spied on him, then wrote this. 

HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A WOMAN: 

Take off clothing and place it in sectioned laundry hamper according to lights and darks. Walk to bathroom wearing long robe. If you see husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas. Look at your womanly physique in the mirror -- make mental note to do more sit-ups/leg-lifts, etc. Get ...in the shower. Use wash cloth , long loofah, wide loofah and pumice stone......
Wash your hair once with cucumber and sage shampoo with 43 added vitamins. Wash your hair again to make sure it's clean. Condition your hair with grapefruit mint conditioner. Wash your face with crushed apricot facial scrub for 10 minutes until red. Wash entire rest of body with ginger nut and jaffa cake body wash. Rinse conditioner off hair. Shave armpits and legs. Rinse off. Turn off shower. Squeegee off all wet surfaces in shower. Spray mold spots with Tilex.. Get out of shower. Dry with towel the size of a small country. Wrap hair in super absorbent towel. Return to bedroom wearing long robe and towel on head. If you see husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas.

HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A MAN:

Take off clothes while sitting on the edge of the bed and leave them in a pile. Walk naked to the bathroom. If you see wife along the way, shake wiener at her making the woo-woo sound. Look at your manly physique in the mirror. Admire the size of your wiener and scratch your butt. Get in the shower. Wash your face. Wash your armpits. Blow your nose in your hands and let the water rinse them off. Fart and laugh at how loud it sounds in the shower. Spend majority of time washing privates and surrounding area. Wash your butt, leaving those coarse butt hairs stuck on soap. Wash your hair. Make a shampoo mohawk. Pee. Rinse off and get out of shower. Partially dry off. Fail to notice the water on floor because curtain was hanging out of tub the whole time. Admire wiener size in mirror again. Leave shower curtain open, wet mat on floor, and light and fan on. Return to bedroom with towel around waist. If you pass wife, pull off towel, shake wiener at her and make the woo-woo sound again. Throw wet towel on bed. 

     I think I almost died laughing the first time I read this. And every time I read it again, I laugh. Too funny. What would we do without our husbands? *Sigh*

Sincerely, 

Me. 

The Bum.

Dear Diary, 

     My children's hineys are probably the squishiest, juiciest things I have ever seen. Once they get in the tub, it's bum-pinchin time. But although my two children look identical, their behinds do not. I've always said my son has cheeks like a set of Rhode's Rolls. *See below. Just picture them smashed together. Tight, round, and perfect for squishing.

     My daughter, however...my sweet, sweet daughter. Her rear-end is like Cellulite City. And in the shape of a W, like a saggy old woman. Poor girl just didn't stand a chance. How unfair it is that males keep both cellulite and fat at bay with little to no effort, yet us girls...we rock the craters at a young age. But you know...we rock it good. 

                               

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Throwing in the Towel.

Dear Diary,  

     With children, who doesn't constantly have their hamper full of dirty clothes? All I know is I am not a major contributor. I think I found myself sporting pajamas 3 days out of the last 7. (For the sole purpose of saving water and laundry, of course). Go ahead. Judge me. And call me later...when you have kids. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

My Favorite Thing.

Dear Diary, 

     I was reminded tonight why I love having a husband and potty trained son in the house. My favorite thing about it is stepping in that little puddle of urine at the base of the toilet that somehow missed the gigantic hole inside that porcelain ring that they aim for. I suppose 7 and 7/8ths inches by 12 inches is just not big enough. Is there such thing as a jumbo toilet? Or maybe I should just put urinals in the house... My poor wet socks are getting tired of unintentionally cleaning up messes. 

Sincerely, 

Me. The Maid. 


P.S. I think I might need to add these to my Christmas list.

You Will Never Know...Unless I Tell You.

Dear Diary, 

     This is the story of my life. Let's just say I'm not usually fresh off the treadmill...

Shhhhh, 

Me. 

Productive Pajamas.

Dear Diary, 

     I am proud to say that today was quite productive. Was it a good day? Not so much. But despite realizing at 5 PM that I had only put mascara on one eye, neglected to put my bra on and I was still in my pajamas, I still considered today a win. By 5:15 PM I was actually no longer in my pajama BOTTOMS because I had accidentally stepped in a puddle of urine...curse you, little-plastic-toilet-with-a-detachable-bucket-that-your-own-child-can-carry-around-and-splash-all-over-the-place. 

     Aaaaaanyways, braless, make-upless me managed to start, finish, fold and put away 2 loads of laundry, wrap and pack up nearly all the Christmas presents for all the family members and then some, de-clutter the kitchen, and make a rock-star dinner. This is a big deal, coming from the woman who has managed to set her kitchen (or something in it) on fire 3 times now in the last 12 months. 

    With that, I take a bow. And delightfully declare that I will be heading to my cupboard to find my fancy "L" mug, fill it with hot chocolate, generously top it with whipped cream and indulge in an episode of Revenge. 

Sincerely, 

Me.

And just because...

Chivalry is Not Dead!

Dear Diary, 

     Last week, my little man wanted to go to the park. It's a daily phrase that is suspended in the air constantly..."Mom? I play at park." When I gave the word, he hopped on his Radio Flyer trike and took off. I grabbed little sis and we followed in the wagon. Then it happened, just as I knew it would. A hundred feet from home, my boy bails and decides he'd like a wagon ride. Instead of going home, we packed his trike in the wagon. He no longer wanted to ride, but rather to pull his sister in it instead. And that he did. For 95% of our walk. Up the hills, down the hills, over the bridges and through the grass. His cheeks were pink and he was sweating, but any time I offered my help he responded, "No thanks, Mom." So sweet. Some girl some day is going to be a lucky wife! 

Sincerely, 

Me. Proud Momma.

Peace on Earth & on the Toilet.

Dear Diary, 

     I realized that for the last few days, I have been trying to find peace in the bathroom. Is 5 minutes too much to ask? All I know is, I am not missing my two front teeth...so for Christmas, this is what I want. 

Sincerely, 

Moms Who Are Overdue for a Good, Quiet Poop. 

Married with Kids, but Still Kids.

Dear Diary, 

     My husband was chomping away at his stash of Cheeto's while chit chatting with me. When he came closer, I realized he had 3 balls of Cheeto crumbs on his eye lid. Our conversation went like this: 

Me: Hey, you have Cheeto cheese balls on your eyelid. 

Husband: Will you get it for me? (Laughing). Do you ever feel like you're married to a five year old? 

Me: No. Wait, I take it back. Yes. 

At this point, he had begun to run his fingers through my hair when he got stuck on a clump all bunched together and hard as a rock. 

Husband: Oh. This, coming from a girl with her hair full of dried up Gogurt. 

     I guess we are still kids, even though we have our own. Happy Parenting! 

Sincerely, 

Us. The Crazy Parents of Two Young Children. 

The Scorpion & the Dinosaur

Dear Diary, 

     After ripping into the Costco parking lot the other day, I realized something. There was a glow-in-the-dark dinosaur footprint on the side of my car. Upon further inspection, I found out it was a sticker. My toddler is fond of "bedazzling" things with his giant sticker collection. I first saw it there a week ago and guess what. It's still there. Laziness at its finest. That, or I secretly like this prehistoric footprint on my car purely for the purpose of added swag. 

     

                                      

     While speaking of prehistoric things, we found this sucker in the garage. Why these guys are still roaming the Earth, I don't know. But don't worry, we wooed him into a sticky trap to wither up and DIE. They take 3 weeks to die this way, but hey. Whatever. I'm a wuss and it was the best I could do. 

Sincerely, 

Me. The Scorpion Slayer Trapper. 

What A Week. Or Two.

Dear Diary, 

     My apologies for my lack of presence as of late. Let me briefly explain why I was gone. 

Nov. 16- My grandmother passed away. 
Nov. 16- My husband's big birthday bash happened. 
Nov. 17- Was alone with the kids while my husband cashed in on his birthday present, which included flying an airplane by himself after instruction from a pilot. (Awesome, I know.) 
Nov. 18th- Gave a ten minute speech/talk/sermon (for whichever religion you are) at my church, it was also my brother's birthday. 
Nov. 19th- Drove 2.5 hours to Snowflake, AZ to begin our funeral/Thanksgiving journey. Our journey began at 6 PM. 
Nov. 20th- Woke up and headed the rest of the way to Albuquerque, NM (4 hours). Spent time with family and ran errands to prepare for the funeral. 
Nov. 21st- Day of the funeral and also my husband's OFFICIAL birthday. We also drove the 4 hours to El Paso, TX to spend the holidays with family. 

***So, just to be sure- did you catch that? At this point, we have traveled 10.5 hours, been in 3 states in 3 days and are about to sleep in the 4th different house for the 4th night in a row. Let's proceed. By the way, we have 2 kids.***

Nov. 21st- We arrive in TX, get the kids ready for bed and get ready to go to a movie to salvage what was left of my hubby's birthday. My 2 year old is hardly breathing and his heart is about to beat out of its chest. He had been feeling under the weather, so we run him to the Urgent Care. They don't take our insurance. We run him to the ER. The waiting room is pretty full. Finally, they check him (and others)with a stethoscope and decide he is first priority so they send him to triage. He is put on oxygen and we find out that no air was circulating through his lungs, thus the reason he is taking such short breaths. It is now 8:30 PM. 

9:00 PM- He begins the first of three albuterol treatments to open up his lungs. 

9:30 PM- Round 2 of albuterol, more oxygen. And coloring books.

10:00 PM- Administration of an oral steroid. 

10:30 PM- Chest X-Ray. 

11:00 PM- Round 3 of albuterol. 

Midnight- Oxygen saturation monitoring to see if we can go home. 

1:30 AM- Discharged with an inhaler chamber and prescriptions for 2 medications. 

1:55 AM- Pick up the medicines from Walgreens and hit up Jack in the Box for some late night chicken nuggets and fries.

2:30 AM- Finally go to bed. 

Nov. 22nd- My little man is up at 6:30, even though he went to bed 4 hours ago. My daughter eats something that didn't sit well and has a bloody/blistery diaper rash accompanied with poop water (delicious) and midnight screams that everyone greatly appreciated. Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving. 

Nov. 25th- We brave the 6 hour journey back to AZ. My husband decides we should stop and chat with family in Tucson, although we have 2 tired/cranky children. Visiting was a blast, but our baby cried the rest of the 2 hours home. I'm talking, BLOODY SCREAMS, people. 2 hours worth. Should I repeat that? 

Nov. 26th- Son has appointment with the ENT because of a possible infection. ENT orders him a CT Scan of the Sinuses and blood work to check for Valley Fever. 

Nov. 27th- Son has CT Scan and results are that he has a sinus infection and needs antibiotics and steroids. 

Nov. 29th- Son has blood work done, no results yet on the Valley Fever. Ran to the grocery store pharmacy to pick up his medications.

Nov. 30th- (TODAY!) Daughter has appointment with pediatrician. Both kids had the flu shot. Yesterday and today resulted in a lot of tears. 

Forgive me for not blogging these past 14 days...we've been a bit busy. Thanks for still reading!

Sincerely, 

Me. The Not-So Wimpy Mom Anymore. 

The Sounds of Motherhood.

Dear Diary, 

     Tonight, my toddler had his baby sister pinned down as he was tickling her stomach and they were both laughing so hard. It was music to my ears, sending a smile across my face. And then I realized something. I realized that even though the sound of double laughter is indeed music to my ears, the sound of double crying is as if someone took that super pointy paring knife that Cutco makes (you know the one...) and just SLICED my ear drum right open. In other words...it is death to my ears. Will there ever be a medium? Will. There. Ever. Be. A. Dang. Medium. That is the double question of the day. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Now I Know.

Dear Diary, 

     Every week, it's the same thing. Mondays stink, Mondays are the worst, Monday-Monday-Stupid-Monday. I always thought it was just some self-fulfilling prophecy from the pessimistic peeps of America, because hey- remember last Tuesday? When I knocked myself out? Yeah, that was not a Monday. I have had plenty of bad days, my friends. And my bad days don't discriminate. It's like Russian Roulette with bad days around this joint. 

     But today, I discovered the horrible beauty of Mondays being less than stellar. There really is something about kicking off the week with a string of negative events. You kind of pretty much feel like a failure at life. 

     My morning began with mealworms. Yes, these babies. All over my kitchen floor. Like a mealworm apocalyptic invasion. 

I saw one, then two. Thirty three mealworms later, all scooped up into my dustpan and about a million more in my kitchen trashcan, I hauled balls to clean up shop. I'm talkin dumping the kitchen trash into the big trash bin outside, sweeping the kitchen, power spraying out the plastic kitchen trash can, vacuuming, the whole kit and caboodle. 

     Phase two of my bad day was gathering up groceries with two kids in the cart that has an attachment that looks like a car (you know the kind...you feel like you're driving a Greyhound bus down the skinny aisles)only to realize at the checkout counter that your wallet is indeed at home. Just where you left it. Sadly enough, my freak-tastic photographic memory where I know all 16 digits, the expiration date and the security code on the back make no difference whatsoever and I was monetarily imprisoned by my forgetfulness. 

     Phase three included feeding a child who would rather have nothing to do with food (like, EVER) and it takes 45 minutes to eat a sandwich. He also likes to slam doors in the house and crush his baby sister's hand underneath it when I turn my back for 5 seconds. Somebody got some major spankings today. 

     Phase four was being asked to speak in church. In 6 days. Which, to be honest, wasn't that bad. I had a lot of good in my day today, too. Like kissing up my babies' cheeks (my kids have the kissiest skin you've ever kissed), having my hubby home for lunch, and Skype-ing with my brother and his girlfriend. Oh, and did I mention I took a 2 hour nap? Holla for a dolla, my friends. Today was not so bad. 

Sincerely, 

Me. Just another manic Monday. 

I'm Pregnant.

Dear Diary, 

     I'm pregnant. With twins. TWIN DOUGHNUTS. This would be the cutest 3 month pregnant belly, though. If I wasn't 9 months post-partum. Time to hit the gym and lay off the ice cream. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

(Proof of my doughnut twins.)

Kids with Markers. Not Your Best Idea.

Dear Diary, 

     I am happy to say that the kids pictured above are NOT my children. I think I'd go into cardiac arrest and die. 

     Lately, my son has decided that my daughter is fun. This is EXCELLENT for me, because they actually play together instead of my toddler pulling on my t-shirt bottom, begging me to play with him while my daughter whines and cries, searching the house for me as if I have left her high and dry in the Sahara Desert to roam aimlessly until further notice. 

     My little guy will throw a blanket over my daughter's head while she sits there and flaps her arms and gasps for air (I'm not sure why she does that...). Then he'll RIP the blanket off and they both start cracking up. That is much more fun than giving a toddler a marker. It's just not the best idea in the world. Needless to say, my markers are hidden as well as my knives are. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Something Different.

Hey guys. Thanks for reading my blog so faithfully. I love you guys! Today I am doing something I haven't done on this blog before. I'm referring you to my OTHER blog without any real entry on this one. Please read this and share it with your friends! Thank you. Read Post Here.

Sincerely, 

Me. 

The Future of Moms.

Dear Diary, 

     I think it is safe to say that I, along with 99% of other mothers, will fall into this category in the coming years. Heaven help us all. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

It Was a Knock-Out!

Dear Diary, 

     I knocked myself out today. Out cold. My screen of life went black. But instead of shutting down completely, my human computer just restarted itself. The color came back and surprisingly, the only words that came out of my mouth were, "Oh, shoot." And while holding my head, trying to get my bearings, my eyebrows shot up in surprise that I didn't blurt out something worse. (Especially considering I felt like this guy...)

     The story goes as follows. I decided to buck up and clean my car. (My first mistake. I knew cleaning was bad for you.)If you have kids, you know how daunting of a task this is. Smashed Cheeto's, books, binkies, finger-printed windows, stickers everywhere, wrappers, diapers, wipes, and all other kid-related items scattered throughout the vehicle. All the doors were open, including the back door when I was cleaning out my son's side of the car. While walking around to the other side, I walked full-force into the back door (I'm usually short enough to make clearance. Not this time). The corner tip of the door, which ran perpendicular to my body, scraped the top of my head and knocked me out. All went black and I doubled over. All I can say is, good thing it's Tuesday instead of Monday. Or is it. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Killer Move.

Dear Diary, 

     It appears I've moved at just the right time. A month or so ago, my next door neighbor in our condo complex was a victim of attempted murder by her drunk boyfriend. He was a winner. I tell ya, there is nothing quite like coming home from a date with your husband and being welcomed by 3 cop cars, a CSI van, concerned neighbors, and suspicious police officers trying to interrogate you. 

     Fast forward a few weeks and there is a triple shooting- one man dead, two hospitalized...in the OTHER condo complex to the right of us. Our location was killer. 

     But our new house? It's even MORE killer...in a good way. We have a mailbox. We are real people now. And we have carpet. Which means no more lazy diaper changes on the floor of any room. And we have bills. Soooo many bills. But we are happy, happy, happy! 

     Welcome home, us. Welcome home. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

P.S. A picture of a different "Shooter". Just to end your night right. 

The Silent Treatment.

Dear Diary, 

     My recent move from condo to house has made for a rather ghost-like blog. And lately, I can relate to this ecard above. But I have to say, there are many incredible posts that await you, so keep reading. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Obedience!

Dear Diary, 

     I love this picture. Such a kid thing to say, isn't it? Fortunately, my little chillins are too young to talk back much. But unfortunately, they are too young to do what I want them to do! 

     There are so many trying times when you have small children. And just when you want someone to say that life gets easier, they always say the same dang thing. "Just wait until you have teenagers." I think I'll enjoy them while they're small. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Ignorance is Bliss.

Dear Diary, 

     
     I've heard them before. And so have you. Stories of parents taking their little one out in public and having some stranger ask what gender they are. That, or they very confidently compliment them using the wrong gender. Well today, that happened to me. While my daughter was wearing a pink top and brown/pink polka dotted pants. Sure, she may be a big, bald, blondie- but she was in pink! Here is how it went. 

Receptionist: Awwww! Is it a boy? Girl? Boy? No, girl...?

My husband: A girl.

Me (thoughts only): For real, lady? Did you have vodka for lunch? 

Receptionist: He's CUTE! 

*Siiiiiiiiggggggghhhhhh* My mind. Was. Boggled. Thanks for the compliment on my son-slash-daughter. You're a very nice lady. 


Sincerely, 

Me. 

Is That Really Easier?

Dear Diary, 

     This is a good idea. But I don't think I'm coordinated enough. This lady gets five points for trying. 

Sincerely, 

Me.

David Cop-A-Feel

Dear Diary, 

     This was funny. And guess who showed it to me. Yes, that is correct. My husband. I think he's sending me a hint....

Sincerely, 

Me. The Currently Boobless Wonder. 

No, No, No.

Dear Diary, 

     Do you ever feel like this? Sometimes, just for fun, I reminisce to the pre-child days. (Note: I love my kids and wouldn't trade them for anything! But...read on.) 

     On Saturdays, my husband and I could wake up at 10 AM if we wanted to. Then, we could slowly roll ourselves out of bed to take a loooooong hot shower, just leaning against the wall like zombies with the water hitting us. Then we could either cook ourselves a fancy breakfast and eat it on the back porch, or we could take our wallets full of money (due to being a childless, double income family, of course) and hit up the Cracker Barrel down the street. Then we could go ride around town on our motorcycle, stop at the Outlet Mall, see a movie, pick up some lunch, come home, take a nap, play video games, eat dinner, then hit the sack. As a mother of 2 youngins, I cannot even FATHOM the thought of that type of Saturday. 

     This little Haiku is exactly how I feel most mornings. But I am happy to say our little anti-sleeper pulled off and entire nights' sleep last night. I'm talkin 8:30 pm - 7 am. I wadded up that invisible Haiku and flushed it down the toilet this morning. Let's just hope it was the first of many nights. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

All the Small Things!

Dear Diary, 

     Let me start out by stating that I am currently the most proud mother on planet Earth. Other planets? Who knows. That's debatable. But seriously, my two year old has mastered potty training. (Yes, even after that last post.)He's even taken it a step further by mastering POOP training. Little did I know that when I ventured into the potty training world, there were all kinds of lies being told to naive moms like myself. I found out that potty training comes first, poop training comes second. Like, later on in a child's life. What??? I guess I just figured it all went together. But no. Kids have a very real fear of dropping their waste in a bucket. Which is perfect for all the moms out there who love scooping that smeary poo out of a hiney crack. He even woke up one morning completely dry, but in a panic saying, "Mom! Poop!" but he was holding it in until I could take him to the toilet. Remind me what two year old does that again? So awesome, bud. Your momma is proud! 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Weird?

Dear Diary, 

     
I am not sure what's the weirdest thing I've ever done as a mother. But as I was listening to the radio in my car, a woman came on the radio talk show and shared an experience she had. While eating dinner, her son had noodles in his mouth and he sniffed while eating, causing a noodle to creep up that little hole in his pallet. The noodle was stuck halfway between his nasal cavity and his mouth. The little boy began to cry. She had her husband could see the noodle but couldn't reach it. SO, the husband placed the child over his lap, plugged one nostril and the mom sucked the noodle out of his nose. Gross. I guess I will have to think of my weirdest experiences and get back to you. Until then, I bid you farewell. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Potty Training is harder than it seems...

Dear Diary, 

(I think this is how little kids see the toilet...)

     Today was an exciting day in the potty training department. We are going on 8 days with no diapers. But we are only on day 1 of no accidents. And surprisingly enough, the only day of no accidents was the very first day of no diapers. I feel as if I can, in some small way, relate to those big corporations that have those charts that say "We are going on ____ days of no accidents in the workplace". But even with the constant undie-soiling, the chillins and I took a trip to a nearby park. Sure enough, a few minutes into our arrival, my little man comes waddling towards me, letting me know he has a turd in his shorts. 

     Luckily, because of its Tootsie Roll nature, it was transferable from underwear to trashcan. Then he decided he needed to urinate. I hid him behind a part of the playground so he could relieve his bladder, but helping him aim his 'Lil Smoky was harder than I realized. Meanwhile, over on a nearby blanket, my daughter was chompin down wood chips like they were goin out of style. I definitely appreciate the lack of sand lining the Arizona playgrounds, but I think the sand would have sifted its way out of my girl's fingers by the time her fist reached her mouth. I finally shoved a Cheeto's Puff in her hands and hoped it would hold her off for a while. Once I finally got my little dude situated, I came back to a daughter with smashed, wet Cheeto's all over her face and hands, attracting numerous flies and ants. Really? I'm pretty sure I was gone for about 49 seconds. I cleaned that up and we moved to the swings. Once I picked my son up to set him on the big boy swing, I felt a lump similar to the first turd spoken of earlier. Checked the undies...and guess what? Confirmation of my suspicion. Game over. We went home and caught the tail end of Ellen. I wasn't too disappointed about that. 

Sincerely, 

Me. The poop queen. 

A Tall Glass of Get Over It.

Dear Diary, 

     Lately, this is how I've been feeling towards my two year almost three year old. Life's tough, champ. But I sure do love ya. 

Love Always, 

Mom.

Cheap shot.

Dear Diary, 


     Being the major bargain shopper that I am, and having those ever so shrinking boobs I spoke of in a recent post, I ventured off to JCPenney to find a better fitting brassiere. 

     Sadly, I found myself in the "XS" and "A" sections of the racks (ha, racks...) and took my goods to the fitting room for round 1 of screening. I was pleasantly surprised at just how comfortable a bra is when it actually fits. Later, I tooted over to the kids section and randomly ran into the training bra section for juniors. Those cups looked mighty tiny, but I had no doubt I could squish my flatties into one of those bad boys. 

     A couple of days after buying this amazing bra, I realized it began to loosen up a bit on the sides, just like my old one did. I was so disappointed! What gives! I just bought this bra! I wondered if I could go back and switch it for a new size, then I remembered...there is no size smaller than a size A... 

     It was the worst unintended cheap shot I had ever given myself. 

Sincerely, 

Me. Small Boobs McGee. 

Don't Get Your Panties in a Bundle.

Dear Diary, 


     Today was the kind of day where you get to lunchtime before realizing your underwear is on inside-out. That's right, inside out. 

     It wasn't a bad day, though. I had well-behaved children, put an offer on a house, and I'm heading to my husband's high school reunion later this evening. I actually took the time to straighten my hair, put on make-up, and NOT sport yoga pants. However, I am currently wearing that latest version of Family Reunion t-shirt (don't worry, I'll change) and I have no intentions of flipping my undies the right way. Take that, life. 

Sincerely, 

Me.