A post so bad I can’t even think of a title.

I guess if you take my overly-serious “I-really-thought-this-blog-would-be-cooler-and-more-introspective” tagline at face value, nothing has been going on in my head the past three months. “Inner monologue of an avid thinker.” I don’t know, maybe I just ran out of time to think. That’s a real possibility. Let’s re-title it, “Occasional verbal vomit of an over-wired spaz – don’t get your hopes up.”

Do you ever get so busy and overwhelmed that when you suddenly have unexpected time to do kind of whatever you end up feeling bored and restless at the same time?  It’s almost like my mind is addicted to focusing on too many things at once and it no longer knows how to do just one thing at a time or, Heaven-forbid, nothing. I can’t remember when I last allowed myself to actually have “nothing” going on in my head. I blame my iPhone.

Believe it or not, I actually journal every day. It’s a prayer journal, not a diary, but truthfully I process everything better when I write it down. Even my prayers. Even my arguments (ask Jeremy). I take notes on things I know I wont forget because I won’t fully “hear” it until I read it. I once wrote a heart-wrenching letter to someone I loved and they called me on not having the guts to say it face-to-face, which was true. But I genuinely didn’t know what I wanted to say until I wrote it. I broke up with Jeremy when we were dating a decade ago through a letter that he read in my presence. Sometimes I think I’m a writer with no time to write.

Almost any time I have a profound thought or a challenging conversation the first thing I want to do is blog about it, and the second thing I want to do is analyze my motivation for blogging about it. Sometimes I get jealous of other people’s blogs. Sometimes I get inspired by them. I generally like my writing self better than my actual self and sometimes I stay up too late re-reading past posts and wake up feeling really tired and embarrassed and self-absorbed (probably because I am really tired and embarrassed and self-absorbed).

Want a list of things I’ve wanted to write about the past three months?

  • Vacation
  • Stuff that annoys me
  • Saying no to things you want
  • Anger and control
  • My sister’s wedding
  • The death penalty
  • Politics and Christianity
  • Funny stuff my kids say
  • Halloween
  • Malachi’s new shoes
  • A million other things that are looong gone.

And here I am writing about not writing. I’m sure you’re enthralled. Have some pictures.

ferris wheel KK beach wedding costumeselsa

Let it Flipping Go

When Malachi first saw Frozen he completely fell in love just like every other child on the face of the planet. He watched it every day for over a week. He learned all the songs. We bought the book. He occupied himself for thirty minutes in the CD section of Barnes and Noble by passionately staring at a cardboard cutout of Anna and Elsa and announcing every 15 seconds, “It’s Fwozen, Mama! See it? Wook, Mama, Fwozen!”

And then all of the sudden he became so terrified of Big Snowman (the ice monster thing) that he wouldn’t even stay in the same room when the movie was on. He’d watch the first twenty minutes, hide when Anna started up the mountain, and not come back until the big snowman died approximately 45 minutes later. He became obsessed. He would flip to the page in his book with a picture of Big Snowman and stare. He had a near panic attack in the car while listening to the sound track. He couldn’t focus on his hot dog in Sam’s because 100 yards away he could see Frozen on approximately 30 flipping TV screens and he knew Big Snowman was coming. I think this trailer accurately sums up his perception of the movie for the last couple months:

So for the past two months we have impatiently and patiently waited, talked logically about how animated objects are just pretend and live in the TV, avoided TV screens where Frozen was playing, and watched other movies. And then, earlier this week, he was ready to try again. It’s possible I bribed him with popcorn, chocolate, Captain Crunch, and a toy from Toys R Us unless you think that’s excessive in which case I’m assuming you probably don’t have kids. He did it, he laughed, he decided Big Snowman is burping when he screams “Don’t come baaaack” and he gives me huge high fives every time he sits through it. He is also no longer afraid of the Wiggles or the Chica Show so hip hip hooooooray. And now we’re back to watching Frozen every day.

I was going to insert some pithy picture to illustrate my feelings about this, but I found this instead and couldn’t stop laughing.

Malachi will only tolerate Pixar movies or other animated films of equal quality. He is not to be bothered by the Jungle Book, Aladdin, Fievel, or even The Little Mermaid. He only wants Cars, Different Cars (Cars 2), Buzz-Woody, Different Buzz-Woody (Toy Story 2), Finding Nemo, or Frozen. He’s also taken to spontaneously quoting lines from these movies and confusing the daylights out of me.

Me: Thanks, buddy.
Malachi: No pwoblem.
Me: No problem, huh? Where’d you learn that?
Malachi: Like Dori says.
Me: Oh, ok.
Malachi: No pwoblem, Mama.
Me: Ok, buddy, go eat your lunch.
Malachi: No pwoblem.

During lunch with a friend, when no one was talking to Malachi he interrupts our conversation to say…
Malachi: You wanna thwow me out the window, Mama?
Me: What? What are you talking about?
Malachi: You wanna thwow me out the window, too?
Me:
Malachi: Like Potato Head say in Buzz-Woody!
Me: Good Lord, Malachi, please don’t say those things in public.

During dinner tonight when conversation lulled.
Malachi: Oh my gosh! Malachi swimmin’ out to sea!

Anytime he is annoyed with anybody.
Malachi: Don’t! Come! Baaaaaaaaaaack!

We’ve actually had to put him in time out for repeatedly screaming “Don’t come back” in my face when I tell him he has to finish his lunch or put his toys away.

Jessie: All you ever talk about is your STUPID Andy!
Malachi: Jessie, say “stupid,” Mama. Dat’s bad.
Me: You’re right, buddy, it is. She should say “silly.”
Malachi: You want to say “silly,” Jessie, ok?

I’m not sure how to wrap up this yawner of a post so…..

7 Quick Takes – I’m not sure why they don’t give me an award for the quality of my writing on Fridays.

Linking with Jen, because I’m sure she’s missed me, my sarcasm, and my riveting hair-care soliloquies.

  1. One of the benefits of being a stay-at-home-mom is that as soon as your husband comes home you get to regale him with a 45-minute stream of super-detailed stories about your exciting day. Stories about closet organization, nap-time productivity, exactly how many people were in each check-out line at Kroger, how many coupons you used/left at home/got rejected by the checker, and how much better your hair is doing now that you switched conditioner. The other day I was excitedly telling the tale of my hair’s vast improvement since I switched to TreSemme Climate Protection and I was pleasantly surprised when Jeremy responded with, “Oh yeah, I saw that conditioner in the shower” instead of his usual, “Yeah… Wait what? Sorry….”
    Me: You were looking at my conditioner?
    Jeremy: Yeah, I was wondering what this weird global warming soap is all about.
    Me: Global warming soap?  You mean because it’s called climate protection?
    Jeremy: Yeah, I thought that was weird.
    Me: It’s called that because it protects your hair from the climate, not because it protects the climate from…your hair.
    Jeremy: Yeah, I figured that out after I looked at it.
    That was so much funnier when it happened than it seems now…. Ok.
    .
  2. Malachi is improving his pronoun usage slowly but surely, although he still refers to himself as “Mal-chi” most of the time instead of the generic “I.”  Mal-chi do it!  Mal-chi want orange juice!  Mal-chi go paaaaaark!  He’s still a little unclear on the whole personal pronoun thing and frequently says “My” instead of “I.”  My do it!  My eat snack!  MY feed doggie!  Which always reminds me of this:

    …so me-sa maybe start calling him Jar Jar. How wude!
    .
  3. I’ve always had really vivid, realistic dreams, especially when I am pregnant. But over the past couple years I’ve started dreaming in movie.  My dreams actually switch from one scene to the next, switch perspective, and have background music. Once I dreamed I was Amy in an episode of Big Bang Theory. Not only was the entire dream pretty funny but it also had laugh tracks in the background.  I’m a little concerned for my sanity at this point.
    .
  4. Jeremy and I finally watched Frozen last night and of course I loved it, just like the rest of the world.  (Unrelated spoiler alert: Why didn’t the troll just tell them the secret in the first place? Would that not have saved 15 or so years of familial heartbreak and malfunction and potential future therapy costs?  Anyway.)
    .
    Have you seen the guy that sang a cover of “Let it Go” in all these different Disney voices?

    The part with Scuttle absolutely cracked me up because I used to do that. Malachi was pretty freaked out by the whole thing until we got to Winnie the Pooh. Then he looked at the little picture and said, “Hi Innie Poo! Is so cute!”
    .
  5. Have you heard of Listia?  It’s like E-bay, but free. It’s mostly a colossal waste of time, but I am 600 Pampers Rewards Points away from getting Malachi a free Cozy Coupe and I can usually muster up enough Listia credits to win some Pampers points auctions and you don’t care. Anyway, I listed an auction mostly for the bonus points but the woman who won had a problem and so an e-mail conversation ensued. Basically I would write her a thorough, polite, grammatically correct e-mail offering several solutions plus an apology and she would respond with something along the lines of:
    “yeah it didnt work”
    I mean, seriously. Can you not throw in a “Thank you” or at least some gratuitous punctuation? Does this kind of thing bother anyone else? Answer: yes. (Language alert, FYI).
    Also, if you want to join Listia, please use my link – I will be forever grateful.  https://www.listia.com/signup/5477022
    .
  6. It snowed again last week and Malachi’s make-up day was cancelled, so now we are having a make-up make-up day and of course they are calling for snow next Tuesday as well. I was “re-re-re-re ‘cited” about his first-ever school pictures but they aren’t offering a snow date for that so I’m just gonna save myself from the agony of dashed hopes and just operate on the assumption that those will get canceled as well.  But maybe I’ll try and do some cute portraits on my own because, you know, my track record is THE BOMB.
    100_3051 DSCN4903 102_3914.
  7. The other day I went into the farmer’s market by myself and got a little confused and overexcited by the free samples at the cheese shop.  I ended up spending 20 dollars on cheese because it was so tasty when taken out of context and seasoned with “I’m here alone and I need to reign myself in!” Then when my sister and I pulled it out to eat together it honestly smelled like a hot, sizzling cow patty and tasted about the same.  I decided to return it because, seriously.  When I took it back the manager said, “This is how this cheese smells and tastes.  Did you not see on the wrapper?  It’s called ‘Barnyard Smell.’ I’ll refund it but if you don’t like it, don’t ever buy it.”  So I guess she was right and I am grateful she refunded my money even though she treated me like a 2-year-old the whole time and wouldn’t let me finish a sentence. But for real? They made it smell like cow poop on purpose?  WHY?!
    ??????????Bon appetit.

Snow and Other S-Words

You can fill in the blanks on your own if you want, but snow and I have a hate-hate relationship. An inanimate substance can’t hate me, you say? Allow me to prove you wrong:

  1. Several years ago I wanted to have a cookie exchange party. I invited everyone. I designed my own invitations. I spent hours making earrings as party favors and put them in to hand-decorated bags that I also spent hours on. I made the dough. I laid everything out the night before. Then it snowed – a lot – and I had to reschedule.
  2. So I did. And on the rain date? 10 more inches. And yes, I cried like a disappointed toddler. I begrudgingly handed out the favors in person to everyone who had RSVPed and it took me two years before I finally had one again. Guess how many people came to that party? Eight. And I love them all (in case you are reading this) but guess how many of them actually brought cookie dough? Four.
  3. We have taken Malachi to the Christmas parade two years in a row. It’s one of our favorite Christmas traditions – we walk down the trail from our house, get hot chocolate on the way, and get back in time for bed. This year it snowed and they cancelled it.
  4. I started tutoring from my home this year to bring in a little extra cash. Out of 5 scheduled sessions we’ve had one so far.
  5. Since the start of the year Malachi should have gone to pre-school 12 times. He was sick two of those times. He went three times. Snow (or the threat thereof) cancelled SEVEN OTHER PRESCHOOL DAYS.
  6. Jeremy and I kindly found a babysitter for Thursday night so that we didn’t ask any of our friends to babysit on Valentine’s day. We made a reservation for one of the nicest, most expensive restaurants in town that I have been wanting to try for 5 or 6 YEARS. By Thursday morning we had 10 inches of snow and the restaurant was closed.
  7. Last week we had to reschedule my husband’s 30th birthday party because we all got sick. We rescheduled it to tomorrow. We cancelled today because of the snow.
  8. Our Valentine’s day gift from my MIL still isn’t here (I’m reaching, I know.)

I am the queen of the badittude, I realize, and I know I should be grateful that we have power and that they plowed our road and that we have heat and all that jazz and believe me, I am, but you better believe that I have been OBSESSED with planning our Myrtle Beach vacation all day even though we are something like 7 months out. And I’m a little bit smug that even though Malachi enjoyed making a snowman and playing in the snow for about 15 minutes yesterday, he is tapped out and asking me when we can go “swim watuh beach?” every day. Today he said, “I don’t wike it cold snow yucky” and I almost cheered but I held myself back with the sheer force of my bad mood.

Plus sides of being snowed in:

  1. Jeremy got two days off work.
  2. I keep forgetting it’s only Friday.
  3. I keep rolling over the same lesson plans so I can procrastinate planning ahead for yet another week.
  4. This:

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Seriously Gross Post Alert

Last Saturday we started getting sick, cancelled on our friends so we didn’t share the love, and decided to take the kids for a walk instead because it was beautiful. And my wonderful hooz-bond spontaneously suggested we go out to eat to which I said a resounding “yahoooo!” because going out to eat is my true love language and apparently I don’t care about protecting strangers from the germs of my raspberry-blowing, table-licking cherubs, just our friends. It was a great day.

And next came church and fun at the grandparents’ and then a Seahawks win so Sunday was pretty bangin’ as well. Until it banged us into the floor. I went to bed with a slight sore throat that I attributed to tiredness and woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a mucous-truck which then backed back over me and dumped a load of fever on me before running over me again and I promise I’ll just leave that metaphor right there and not return to it.  Sorry.

I used to say that when I was sick and congested it felt like someone sprayed up my nose with spray insulation and it expanded until I just couldn’t take it anymore. This round of winter nasty I seem to have mostly skipped the congestion thing (hooray!) but instead me and the kids are all just oozing, swampy fountains of SNOT. So. much. snot. Snot in the baby food. Snot on my sleeve (not mine). Snot on the pillows. Snot in the pacifier.

Today was the first time the kids and I left the house in six days (unless you count the oh-so-fun 1.5 hour jaunt [with both kids cuz we stupid] to our rental house to mop out the dog-stench with cold water and no electricity) and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Malachi so excited to go to the “bibwary” and then to the pound to see the kitties, but not the doggies because “I don’t wike it too woud!” And after some seriously good naps and some seriously good straightening of the cesspool, Naomi was happy from wake-up to bed-time and that hasn’t happened since…..her birth, maybe? We even watched a movie I like and I finished crocheting a hat that might help me bring in some bacon bits so it was actually a good day. I can’t stop hacking my lungs up and Naomi is still covered in a film of green but otherwise things are looking up. Malachi *might* (knockonwoodsayaprayercursethesnow) even get to go back to pre-school this week for the third time out of 9-freaking-days he could have gone (not bitter! maybealittle) so hip hip hooray!

Please come back. I promise never to be that disgusting again.

Also, do you enjoy following annoying moms who only post pictures of their kids on instagram with only the rare artistic failure thrown in?  Hit me up.

Dry Cereal and Alcohol and Quality Television and Run-On Sentences and Run-On Blog Titles

You know you’ve had a long day when you are eating dry Cheerios and drinking champagne before the kids are even in bed. Malachi also has a habit of taking a sip of any drink he sees sitting around, no matter whose it is or how old it is or how long its been sitting in the hot car or whether or not it’s fermented.

“Nummy Mommy soda!”
“All done, Malachi! No more Mommy soda! That’s yucky!”
“No, nummy Mommy soda! More Mommy soda!”
“How about a lollipop?”
“Yay, yahyeepop yay! Hahahahaha ta-da!”

The younger me that swore she’d never bribe her children or sit on the couch and watch TV while they clambered over her feet begging for attention “just” because she was tired (so selfish) would maybe be horrified but hopefully she’d just be amused and assume it was a rare occurrence. Which really, it is, kind of, mostly.

My two-year-old’s new favorite game is called “Smack the baby on the head over and over until Mommy reaches me and throws me in timeout” followed closely by “Push her over onto the floor and laugh.” And said baby is cutting four teeth.

So.

Here’s your violin, please play me a song, because no other mother has ever had it as rough as me.

But it is the Christmas season and my house is all decorated, and every time I pulled a new decoration out of the box Malachi would gasp and whisper “Wow!” in the most perfect wonder-filled kid-voice ever. He likes to spit on my Christmas carousel because it’s the only way he knows how to blow and he wants to get it to spin “me-self!” with out any help from me. And every time he passes one (and I have a LOT), he announces “Nutcwackah!” Naomi is teething and stuffy which = finally letting me rock her to sleep again and actually cuddling with me for more than .5 seconds at a time and I love it soooooo much.

And even though I’m sitting here eating dry Chex (YOLO!) and watching Dirty Dancing for the thirty-somethingth time (I really wish that was an exaggeration) and then subsequently being appalled at the trashy commercials on VH1 (shocker) because apparently I have higher expectations of a channel that would air Dirty Dancing on a regular basis and I don’t know how I was planning on finishing that sentence, but it’s gone on long enough, don’t you think? Anyways, life is good. Good enough that I’ve been living it the past couple weeks instead of blogging about it

But Imma blog it up now. Buckle your seat belts for an overload of drama because if anyone can create enough drama to dedicate an entire online diary to, it’s a stay-at-home-mom. And no, I won’t stop blogging about my kids ever ever because, you know…

Nobody puts baby in a corner.

Why do I keep punishing you with these?

From the time I set my breakfast down on the table this morning to the time I actually finished it, this is what happened:  Set breakfast on table, start feeding Naomi who is swallowing it faster than I can refill the spoon, argue with Malachi about eating more than 4 Cheerios for breakfast, feed Naomi some more, give Naomi some finger foods to try to buy a minute to wolf down some toast, take Malachi to the potty to pee, come back to the table and resituate Malachi, give Naomi another bite, take my first bite of now cold toast, get up and get Malachi’s fork off the floor, finish feeding Naomi, start feeding Malachi making “choo-choo” noises because it’s the only way he will eat, randomly stuff a bite in between Malachi’s bites, get up and lunge for Malachi’s dropped vitamin before the dog eats it  (I think she might have licked it a little but Malachi will never know), finish eating, get Naomi cleaned up and down from her chair, get Malachi cleaned up and down from his chair, take first sip of coffee, take vitamins.

All the while I was praying that the UPS man wouldn’t come first thing in the morning because I was not at all decent.

Lunch was slightly more organized – by the time I finished my leftovers they were no cooler than lukewarm so that’s something. Malachi let me know it was naptime by beginning to randomly kick and hit his sister. When I yelled at him for smacking her I looked over and realized she was cracking up and thought the whole thing was hilarious. I put Malachi down at 1:30 and then let Naomi crawl around in peace for a minute or 30. Then I looked up to see her crawl into her carseat from behind, wrangle her way all the way in, nearly slam her head on the ground rocking it, fart really loud, then somehow climb out without injuring herself.

I put Naomi down for her nap at 2:00 and sat down to read some e-mail when I heard Malachi’s door open and shut super fast. I marched in to discover him wide awake and beaming with the light on. When I sternly told him to go back to bed he responded with the requisite “See Daddy home!” which means “I want Daddy to come home so I can see him (because you are a horrible mother)!” – parenthesis mine.

Just another day in the Dillinger funhouse.