The Kid pulls her bib out of my purse at church, puts it on and says, "Bring on the sacrament!"
Today, I am missing Thailand. Or, more specifically, I'm missing sitting on the beach, eating fresh pineapple (that someone else cut up for me), ordering green curry and a chocolate milkshake. All for the daily cost of $5 ($7 if you included a massage).
Bruno Mars comes on the radio. The Kid says, "Mama, this song is horrible. Put on the one about Goodwill. THAT'S a good song."
I'm taking the bread out of the oven and The Kid walks by, nodding her head, and says, "Not too shabby, mama. Not too shabby at all."
I'm pretty sure going to the gym is making me weaker. I totally used to be able to do 30 man push ups...today I managed 10. Not in a row. And it was HARD.
The Kid: I need some smiley face undies.
Me: Oh, yeah?
The Kid: Yeah, because that's what Gru wears.
The Kid's favorite new activity = sneaking up behind me, grabbing my rear, and squealing, "BUM CHEEKIES!" It's funny except for when she has chocolate frosting on her hands...
Took The Kid out to pick out panties YET AGAIN. She chose Justice League undies from the boy's section. Then, she brought me the Batman undies this morning and asked me to take pictures of her in them while she flexes her muscles. Heaven help us.
I'm pretty sure I just saw Snoop Dogg at the Kroger gas station. I almost shouted, "Yo, yo, yo, what up, Dogg?" Then I remembered I'm white. And I would look like a fool.
The Kid walks in while I'm going to the bathroom (have I mentioned that our doors don't latch properly?) and starts cheering for me:
The Kid: Yay, mama! You're doing it! Just like a big girl! I'm so proud!
Me: You're crackin' me up, man.
The Kid: No, I'm not crappin' you up.
Me: Hey, what do you want to do today?
The Kid: Let's go to the bank and order some money!
Walking around Wal-Mart when we see a lady in a VERY low cut tank top. The Kid says loudly, "Wowee! That lady needs to cover those up!"
Potty training: Day One - Zero accidents. Day Two - One Accident. Day Three - Three accidents so far and the day's not even over. I think we're moving in the wrong direction.
Me: Ugh. I'm so sick of all these clouds and no rain! Why doesn't it rain?
The Kid: I don't know why it doesn't rain. We should ask Kate Howard. She'll know.
The Kid: I'm gonna need one of daddy's peanut butter Easter eggs and I'm gonna need you to bring it to me while I'm on the toilet.
The Kid: Daddy, why do you have so much hair on your body?
Husband: To protect me from mommy.
The Kid: Ima go to Kroger tomorrow and get me some.
Is it wrong that when I watch any track and field event, I generally root for the Jamaicans first and the Americans second?
I don't know who you are, but if you'd please stop giving super trashy people my phone number, I'd really appreciate it. I mean, not that I don't like texts containing pictures of an $800 pistol that one of your "friends" is planning to buy or calls from some gentleman at 11pm at night letting me know that he's "in the neighborhood", it's just a little creepy.
Husband brings home spinach at my request. The Kid: What are you going to do with all those plants? Maybe I could try some of those leaves.
Putting The Kid to bed, lights off, snuggled up, telling her how much I love her when she turns to me and says, "Why don't you go downstairs and tell daddy to come up and snuggle me."
The Kid is speaking jibberish:
Me: Hey, that doesn't sound like English.
The Kid: No, I'm just speaking Polish for you.
Just ate a Bavarian cream donut for the first time in YEARS. Ate all the way around the cream, intending to save the best for last, put it down, went to the kitchen to get something, came back, and The Kid had gone ahead and licked EVERY BIT of that cream out of the donut. I'm not going to lie, I almost cried.
Who knew that potty training would go so much more smoothly after the invention of The Potty Dance? I'd like to thank my Ruby Valley musical education, my degree in camping awesomeness from BYU and my Zumba background for the inspiration for said song. We shall be recording it to sell to all of you frustrated potty trainers next week.
Dreamt last night that I went back to Zimbabwe as part of an elite team (and that's how you know it was a dream) training for Amazing Race wherein Scott Meyer was the trainer. He was trying to make us do burpees in shallow water and I kept yelling, "We're all going to get bilharzia and die!" to which he replied, "Bilharzia is a myth! You're just being a wimp!"
Oh, my word. I just swerved to miss a squirrel. What kind of girl am I becoming?!
Me: Dude, I've told you twice not to do that. If you do it again, I'm gonna spank ya.
The Kid: But mama, I love you sooooo much, gosh dangit!
Today at the park, The Kid may have squatted in the middle of a group of teenagers and pottied. And by "may", I mean she absolutely did. Because my life wasn't already awesome enough.
Two things: 1. How do you know when you're wimping out of your workout because you are actually a wimp vs. wimping out because you just don't feel well? 2. As I was muttering to myself about how I'm losing my mind and going crazy, The Kid walks up behind me and says, "You're going crazy? It's ok, mama. You're still my flavor-ite."
While watching Cinderella with The Kid:
The Kid: What happened to her dress?
Me: Those mean girls wrecked it.
The Kid: So she gotta go to Kohl's to get a new one?
Me: No, her Fairy Godmother is going to make her one.
The Kid: Kohl's would be better.
Took The Kid to the store to pick out a gift for a friend's birthday. On the way out, she yells at the top of her lungs, "Mama, we gotta hurry, it's raining all over my nipples!" To be perfectly clear, she WAS fully dressed at the time.
The Kid just unearthed all of my Thai and Cambodian money, brought it to me and said, "Mama, I wanna use all of this monies to take you to Cracker Barrel. And then we can use the rest at Chuck-E-Cheese." Apparently she's not quite to the point where she understands the exchange rates...
Husband made me my very favorite dessert for Mother's Day:
The Kid: Is this a Happy Birthday cake?
Me: No, it's a Mother's Day cake. Mother's Day is a special day for mamma.
The Kid: I'm a mamma, too. I just need a baby.
Me: That's true, in 30 years, you can be a mamma.
The Kid: Well, we're gonna need a lot of presents to go with this special cake.
The Kid is constantly trolling for money to ride the merry-go-round at the mall (that constantly plays Ring Around the Rosie). This morning she came to me with a handful of money:
The Kid: Look at all these coins!
Me: Are you rich?
The Kid: Yeah. I'm Ring Around the Rosie rich!
Me: Hey, what do you want for breakfast?
The Kid: Cheese sauce. And a side of beef.
I just hit an (already dead) alligator on my way to work. Is it wrong that my inner Nevada girl is kind of excited about that? I mean, not that the alligator is dead or that I hit it, but because there's an alligator in the road to begin with.
The Kid: Daddy just already went to the gym.
Me: He did? Why'd he do that?
The Kid: So he can be beautiful like you and me!
Drug bust on our street! Because we believe in living next to only the classiest people!
The Kid: what's the plan today?
Me: I don't have a plan.
The Kid: well, shouldn't we have a plan before we leave?
The Kid: I'm getting married.
Me: oh yeah? Who're you marrying?
The Kid: Santa Claus. Then there will be lots of presents at the party!
Guess who did 74 push ups in three minutes yesterday?! This girl! I mean, they were girl push ups, but I still did it. And I could even still breathe at the end!
The Kid's been after Husband all week to share some of his protein drinks with her. Today we mixed up some of the strawberry and gave it to her just to see what she'd do. She took a couple of drinks, handed it back to me and said, "I don't like this strawberry milk. It's kinda funky."
The Kid: Is daddy going to the beach with us?
Me: No, daddy's going to work.
The Kid: Because he's a boy and boys have to go to work?
Driving around in the car when Hanson's MMMBop came on the radio. I cranked it up and The Kid says, "Wowee, mama, that's LOUD. You gotta turn it down, it's hurting my ears."
Goodbye first trimester and your nasty progesterone lozenges. I will not miss either one of you!
Just handed The Kid a cup of lemonade and she says, "Is this lemonade fresh? Because you know I like it fresh." Um...ok.
It's so frustrating to go to the gym and every day be able to do less and less. Shouldn't it be the opposite?
The Kid: Hey, Mr. Incredible has an iPad just like my daddy!
Me: He sure does.
The Kid: Is my daddy Mr. Incredible?
Me: Yes, he is.
The Kid: I just already know that.
The Kid comes running into the bathroom, crying, and drops writhing on the ground. I jump out of the shower, convinced she's cut her finger off:
The Kid: I just need my Green Lantern panties.
Me: Well, I put them right by you before I got in the shower.
The Kid: But I need to wear them on!
Me: Well, go put them on, then.
The Kid (stops crying): Hey, I will go put them on.
Me: Dude, you're making me crazy.
The Kid: No, I don't making you crazy, The Green Lantern is making you crazy.
Stopped at Honey B Ham for lunch: #1 who knew they served such delicious sandwiches? #2 everyone at Honey B Ham apparently knows everyone else at Honey B Ham. #3 all people at Honey B Ham root for Texas A&M and refer to Johnny Manziel as "Johnny Football" and pretend they know him personally. #4 when I asked The Kid what she wanted to drink, she said, "I'm gonna need at least two cups of coffee."
Is it wrong that I kind of wish Husband could experience some pregnancy symptoms? I mean, he doesn't have to throw up or anything, but maybe just a couple of days of the belly aches, headaches, and fatigue? Because I'm pretty sure every time I tell him about any of it (pretty much every day), he thinks I'm a complete nut bar.
Note to Self: Even if Cadbury mini-eggs are the only thing that sounds good for breakfast, you should not take that as a sign you should eat them. Because then, you'll spend the next fifteen minutes heaving your guts out over the toilet. And we all know how fun that is.
Late to church today for the first time in over a year and a half. Mostly because Husband was having to dig through the trash for the $20 bill I threw in there. I mean, you know, we've got so much cash up in here, we've got to get rid of it somehow. In my defense, it was wadded up in an HEB receipt and looked just like garbage.