I can’t argue with him. I can’t take him to library time in this get-up, or lack there-of. I can’t get enough coffee in me to make it to nap time. I can’t chase “baaman” and the naked boy wonder. I can’t finish my blog posts. I can’t register the 17-year-old for the PSAT. I can’t run another forgotten lunch to the school. I can’t face make-up, and I can’t face dealing with my hair. I can’t face the gym. I can’t face another meatloaf. I can’t get the bills mailed. I can’t believe the number on the scale. I can’t sign up for Weight Watchers… again. And I can’t open the sippy cup I just found under the bed, it is moving and has a pulse. I just can’t.
“Oh, my word! Suzy is such a hick. ‘Ashley won’t wear shoes.’ Puh-lease! Just put shoes on the child. Who is in charge in this relationship?”
Stuff I Wish You’d Quit Saying: “When are you due?” Welcome! And Happy October to you! This is day ONE of a fun little challenge I entered, and I had the hardest time deciding what I could blog about 31 times. I prayed and studied and went through some old posts… and then it hit me. The snarkiest stuff in my life is born of stuff people say that makes me go…”WHAT?!?!!” So, I can’t promise it will be life-changing. …
I was dropping Sophie (our 13-year-old) at piano lessons, and one of the toddlers said, “bye-bye Bobbie! I wub you. Dank du!” Another toddler responded, “No! Bebe, you using da wrong WORBS! It’s bye-bye GOGIE! And you don’t say dank you to her. She didn’t gib you nuffin’…”
The wrong words.
I had 126 messages this morning when I woke up. An Open Letter to My Children has gone out into the cyber world and had itself a heck of a run. This morning it had been viewed 500,000 times on Word Press. It was republished on For Every Mom and has been shared over 7,000 times on that site. And while some of you may think that is a crying shame let me use my words to say a few things.
I am old. This is what the new batch of our babies have to look forward to. They have an old mom. And she’s way behind the times. They will to go school with kids that were birthed into swimming pools… In their living rooms! Am I new? I am just hearing about this. I saw the Duggars doing “natural” deliveries in a bath tub..
The salt water burned my eyes. If I was pulled to the depths one more time, I wouldn’t be coming back. Between the strong undertow and bikini top wrapped around my neck; I was surely about to die. Modesty out the window, I broke the surface for the last time and yelped “help!” As an ADD-dyslexic myself, I have been known, on occasion, to misread, misinterpret, miscalculate, and generally miss, instructions, rules, and warnings. Call me a free spirit, I …