Thursday, August 29, 2013

On Facebook

The Kid: What movie is this we're watching?
Me: Cinderella.
The Kid: Mama, you know Cinderella scares the crap out of me.

When you've got puke encrusted carpets, is there anything sexier than your husband walking through the door with a heavy duty rug scrubber? I submit to you that theres is not. In other news, carpet cleaning is not for weenies.

Tantrum of the Day (brought to you by The Kid): 8.25 minutes (yes, I timed it) of screaming and crying because I would not allow her to pee into a drinking cup.

Me: Hey, dude, what do you want for breakfast?
The Kid: How about a knuckle sandwich?
Me: A knuckle sandwich?
The Kid: Yeah, daddy said he was going to make me one yesterday.

I finally got the opportunity to speak with The Yoga Instructor Extraordinaire. I didn't think he could get better, but I was wrong! The dude: 1. Is a hairdresser on the side. 2. Teaches adult beginning ballet. 3. Loves his mother. 4. Burns incense at the end of his yoga classes. 5. Has a Latin accent! A LATIN ACCENT! As if there were any way I could have loved him more!

The Kid: Daddy told me he needs some orange juice at the store.
Me: I don't think he did.
The Kid: No, Nick Jr told me. He needs it really bad.
Me: How did Nick Jr tell you? He's not even out of my belly yet.
The Kid: He whispered to me.

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
The Kid: I want to be Marshall Hayes.
Me: So you want to be a doctor?
The Kid: No, just a garbage man.
Me: Marshall Hayes isn't a garbage man, dude.
The Kid: Well, is he a fish? He has a pool.

Me: I'm pretty sure the reason my sciatic nerve is acting up is because my gluteus is hypertoned.
Husband: Yeah. I'm sure that's why.

The Kid: We really need to follow the crawfish.
Me: The crawfish?
The Kid: Like the one at church.
Me: Are you talking about a prophet?
The Kid: Yeah, a prophet!
Me: Who's your favorite prophet?
The Kid: Santa Claus.

The Yoga Instructor Extraordinaire owns ORANGE TOE SOCKS! Seriously a man after my own heart!

Couldn't hack it in Zumba this morning and instead was relegated to outter darkness (AKA the treadmill...where there is also much weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth). The good news is that the gentleman on the treadmill to my left was treated to a stirring rendition of Ice, Ice Baby by yours truly. Because if I'm doing nothing but walking, I'm going to be practicing for my next career, which, naturally, will be as a backup singer/dancer to Vanilla Ice. It's called multi-tasking.

A girl from the gym gifted us a super soft blanket for Nick Jr. The Kid glommed onto it immediately:

The Kid: Nick Jr. wants me to have this.
Me: How do you know? Did you ask him?
The Kid (yelling at my belly): NICK JR! DO YOU WANT TO TRADE BLANKEES? YES? OK!
The Kid: Mama, he said he wants to trade.

Barefoot and pregnant, baking up a Texas Sheet Cake in my boiling hot kitchen with my half-naked toddler who has her apron tucked up into her undies. I mean, not that I've even THOUGHT about what we're having for dinner, but at least we'll have some cake.

The very best part of pregnancy has arrived - the part where if you sit really, really still, and don't even breathe, you can see your stomach skin pop out from the kicks of a tiny 1 pound baby. It's a good thing it has come when it has because accompanying that is a greasy, acne filled face....and other things that we're not going to discuss.

Shooooot. I just dominated Jeopardy Kids Week. Take that 10-year-old kids!

Wisdom of a 3-year-old:

Me: Man, it smells like a wet dog in here.
The Kid: I think it smells like a wet pig.
Me: What does a wet pig smell like?
The Kid: It smells like oink.

Two years ago this week, Husband was in the hospital with a GIANT hole in his leg, I was wringing my hands because I didn't know what to do, and we were relying on friends to care for The Kid during a 2.5 week hospital stay (and then a three month recovery period). And yet, looking at the scars from the surgeries, you wouldn't know any of that. Such a shame doctor's bills don't go away quite as quickly

The Kid: When was a baby, did I come outta your belly?
Me: Yup.
The Kid: And whose belly did you come out of? A donkey's?
Me: No, I came out of Grandma Judy's belly.
The Kid: I think you're telling stories.

Client: I was wondering if you wanna be my girl.
Me: Well, you know I'd love to, but I don't think my husband would let me.
Client: WHAT?! You're married?! Husbands ruin everything.

The Kid came to sugar my belly this morning and informed me that the kiss was for Nick Jr, NOT for me. Then, this:

The Kid: It's gonna be pretty hard when Nick Jr. comes out.
Me: Why?
The Kid: Because he already likes me better than you.

The Kid: What're you doing, mama?
Me: I'm putting on mascara to make my eyelashes as pretty as yours.
The Kid: Well, I guess you can try...

The Kid to a random lady outside Chick-Fil-A, "My bladder is full and my belly is full of poop. Seriously."

Sometimes being a mother is so humbling...

The Kid: You have to go to the bathroom AGAIN?
Me: Yeah, Nick Jr is sitting on my bladder so I have to go a lot.
The Kid: Well, I hope he finishes climbing the ladder pretty soon because I've gotta go, too.

After an entire morning of The Kid dictating do this and do that to one of her friends, I sent them outside to swim. I went out two minutes later to find The Kid cradling her friend's head in her lap and singing, "You're my my little darling, my best friend, my special sweet pea girl."

Other quotes from today, "Yes, Kate, I know you want to snuggle me in the bed, but my sheets are really quite dirty."

With a lunchbox, "I've never shown this to anyone in my entire life. Swear you won't tell anyone. Cross your heart. CROSS IT!" (which, if I'm not mistaken, is a quote directly from Up)

Me: Go give daddy sugar bye.
The Kid: I already did. He's full of sugar. Even his pants are full of sugar.

Me: HEY! Look! I found your sippy cup!
The Kid: Well, that's fan-freakin'-tastic.
Me: Do you even know what that means?
The Kid: It means you did a really good job.

Called my mother yesterday only to have her new husband answer the phone. I'm not going to lie, I was beyond flustered, the very first thought that came to my mind was, "Well, who the H is this?!" Guess some things are going to take getting used to.

The Kid: I'm all done with my food.
Me: Naw, dude, just take a few more bites.
The Kid: But I just have too much blood in my body so my body is already full.

That kid wandering through Joann completely bottomless while her mother was completely clueless and still in the bathroom? I would pretend she wasn't mine, but looks too much like me to pretend ignorance. In other news, I hit a car in the parking lot...because being the mother of the nakey baby wasn't awesome enough.

Asked The Kid to get the sour cream out for lunch and when I turned around, she was shoveling it into her mouth with a spoon as fast as possible:

Me: What are you doing?
The Kid: I'm stirring it up, making sure it's sour enough for us.
Me: And how does it taste?
The Kid: Not very good yet. I'd better keep stirring.

A friend gave The Kid a battery powered hamster yesterday at church. Today while I was in the shower, it "escaped" under the couch. The Kid runs into the bathroom:

The Kid: You have to come get my hamster back!
 Me: Well, hang on, let me get dressed.
The Kid: BUT MOM! The hamster doesn't care if you're naked!

Me: You're a good girl.
The Kid (singing): You know you want it, you know you want it...

So...maybe I listen to that song too much.

While I don't appreciate doctor's visits interfering with my Zumba schedule, it gives me the opportunity to see my fabulous moves up close and personal in my bathroom mirror while drying my hair. And I'm not going to lie, I look good. But, all that dancing begs one question: Why is there no Ricky Martin included in the current Zumba routine? As the king of American Latin awesomeness, you'd think he'd at least make an appearance.

The Kid: Man, I just really like to go to your doctor. They have suckers for me, and you, and all those other girls with big guts.

The Kid: "You know, your life would be a lot easier if you'd just listen to me."

No telling where she heard that...

The Kid's latest obsessions? Porcupines and the lobster tank at the store. Today, this, "I just really like lobsters. They are always most welcome!"

Reason #312 I can't be the mother of a boy: Standing in line at the store behind two 10-ish year-old-boys who are farting and making pretend farting sounds and then laughing hysterically. Boys. Are. Gross.

The Kid is playing with a string, a bowl, a teething toy, and a piece of chalk. Why do we have toys again?

Brag on Husband moment: One 11pm run to Whataburger for chicken honey butter biscuits (check). One homemade batch of Emeril's BBQ shrimp with dirty rice (check). One serving of homemade Carabba's chicken bryan (check). All at my request. The man's got talent.

The Kid: Can you take me to work?
Me: You got a job?
The Kid: Yeah. At McDonald's. I'm soooo happy.
Me: Well, at least you're aiming high...

Me: C'mere, dude, I have to fix your hair.
The Kid: Well, I'd love to help, but I'm busy doing circus tricks.

A phrase I never thought I'd utter (to The Kid): Dude, if you'd stop rubbing spaghetti all over your body, I'd really appreciate it.

Is it possible for a Mormon girl who's never had a drop of alcohol in her life to have a raging hangover? Because I totally do.

Super Saturday: 1. The restaurant where we were eating last night started on fire. PAR-TAY! 2. Blueberry pancakes for breakfast that remind me of my high school days living with George and Carrie McIntosh. 3. A gift box that included Fanta grape lipgloss that reminds me of the Elko County Fair. 4. Also in the gift box, a pair of argyle socks, which The Kid classifies as "really quite sassy". 5. The Kid rubbing her cheek up against my belly and yelling, "Nick Jr! I love you! I'm snuggling you!"

Walked into the kitchen to find The Kid mixing half a stick of room temperature butter into her play doh:

Me: OH! Duuuuuuuuude!
The Kid: Are you mad, mamma? Remember the song! When you feel so mad, you want to roar, take a deep breath and count to FOUR! How do you feel now? All better!

You know, there are just some women who should have all the babies in the world and just give them to the ones who aren't so good at it. Saw a friend today who had a baby three weeks ago and she looks EXACTLY the way she did before she got pregnant. You know what I looked and felt like three weeks post-birth? Like death warmed over. And that's being kind.

After complaining how nasty boys are last week, this morning, this:

The Kid: Are you ready for the alarm to go off?
Me: What alarm?
The Kid: Where is it?
Me: I have no idea what you're talking about, dude.
The Kid (as she toots loudly): Oop! It just went off.

I'm not going to lie, I had to hide my laughter as I showed her just how shocked I was at her behavior.

I'm officially 2/3 of the way done growing this baby...and it's time for a re-think of gym wardrobe. Although, I didn't feel nearly as bad about my multitude of wardrobe malfunctions today since Frances Flores forgot her pants all together...

Me: Hey, guess whose birthday is today.
The Kid: Who?
Me: Uncle Jared. What do you think he'll get for his birthday?
The Kid: If he's lucky, he'll get some candles from the dollar store.

Me: Aww, man! I took a wrong turn and now I have no idea where I am!
The Kid: I'm pretty sure we're in Texas, mama.

The Kid: I'm starving. Can you make me a bowl of delicious corn?

And then later on...

"I can't eat corn with all of these clothes on. I have to take them off. That's what Jesus would do."

The Kid: Mama, when I'm feeling scared, I close my eyes and think of you.
Me: Aw! Baby! That's so nice! That makes me so happy!
The Kid: Yeah, but I don't think about your belly because then it's scary again.

Question: Did the female reporters on ESPN lose a bet or did they get together and voluntarily wear that eye black? Because either way, I'm sorry, but they look like a bunch of dumbasses.

The Kid: What are we going to do today?
Me: I thought we'd see if my boyfriend, daddy could go to lunch.
The Kid: Can I bring my boyfriend, too?
Me: Who's your boyfriend?
The Kid: Elliot Miller.
Me: You know he's half your size, right?
The Kid: I like little ones.

The Kid was lounging up against my belly when suddenly she stood up and took off:

Me: Hey! I thought we were snuggling!
The Kid: But something in your belly keeps poking my head and you should make it stop.

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