Saturday, June 25, 2016

February on Facebook

Last week was a big one at The Peters Household: new church responsibilities, church ward split, back to the search for childcare, cutting hours at my job, and a new job for Husband. And, it has chosen to manifest itself upon my face....in the form of a blister on my chin. Um. WHAT?!


Me: If you could have dinner with anyone in the world, who would it be?
The Kid: You.
Me: Not Jesus? Or Santa Claus?
The Kid: No, mama, I love you.
Day. Made.


4 am:
The Kid: Mama, you gotta get up! We've got a big race to get to.
Me: Dude. It's 4 o'clock. You understand we're not actually in the race, right? We're just handing out water.
Me: Yes, but I see you have not yet prepared the water.


When your single neighbor tells you what his plans are for Friday night and you think, "Yes, my plans are much like yours except instead of going out drinking and dancing with my friends, I'm going to put a couple of corn dogs in the microwave for the kids and hopefully be in bed by nine."


Dream #1: Win the lottery, buy a chalet in Zermatt, Switzerland, and spend the rest of my life drinking hot chocolate and skiing the Alps. Dream #2: Sleep through an entire night without one or the other of my children clawing (literally. You can hear their fingernails on the sheets) their way into my bed in the middle of the night. Probability of either dream coming true: 972 gazillion to one:


When the two-year-old is walking around the house singing Mellow Yellow. Thank you, Minion Movie.


When you go to the gym and your main objective is just to not hurt yourself again. The good news: slow elliptical work gives me plenty of time to work on my lip sync performance of Payphone by Maroon Five. If there was a lip sync version of The Voice, Adam Levine would have chosen me based on that what I did today (and if that wouldn't do it, my rendition of You Don't Know You're Beautiful by One Direction would certainly get me the nod). ‪#‎callmeadam‬‪#‎treadmillperformer‬ ‪#‎peopleattthegymloveme‬ ‪#‎notweirdatall‬


Unanswered Prayers by Garth Brooks has long been a favorite song of mine. The only beef I have with it is that I believe God answers all prayers, sometimes the answer is just no. Or not right now. But I guess Prayers Where the Answer Was No just doesn't have the same ring to it. PS Today, I am grateful for at least three prayers where the answer was no. Of course, I had to wait ten years to see it, but now, it's magic!


It's raining this morning and this from The Kid, " Mama, aren't we lucky that God sent a car wash to us? Too bad he forgot the giant conveyor belt, because that would be better. I'm gonna have to talk with him about that."


Upon returning home from school, The Kid threw a massive fit (there was weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth) because I declined to take her to the mall to purchase a new toy. She then proceeded to play with a box for the next two hours.


When things look bleak, you call your mother. And naturally, she will tell stories that will remind you that your life could suck so much worse. In our family, that's what we refer to as a "pep talk".


The Kid is watching Scooby Doo and the villain on this particular episode is The Gluten Demon. Terrorizing all those with digestive disorders. And apparently vegans on the side.


We may or may not have taken a kid to church today who was not wearing shoes.  ‪#‎whitetrash‬  ‪#‎justcallustheclampetts‬ ‪#‎atleasthewasdressed‬


The Kid: I put on Chapstick, lip gloss and lipstick!
Me: Baby, more isn't always better, sometimes it's just more.
The Kid: That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.


Dear My Children,
I love you so much. Lord knows I do. But if you break one more electronic device in this house, I'm going to have to sell you to the gypsies.
Your Loving Mother
PS Please, The Kid, stop brushing your brother's hair with the toilet brush.


Me: What'd you learn about at school today?
The Kid: The third president of the United States of Ameica.
Me: And who's that?
The Kid: Thomas Jefferson. And I saw his picture and he's not at all sassy.


When your kid is finally strong enough to open the Chick Fil A play place door by himself so you don't have to keep getting up and down to do it for him and you can FINALLY enjoy your delicious chicken sandwich while it's hot.


3 am: Wake up in the throes of a panic attack
5 am: Calm down enough to attempt sleep
5:15 am: The Spawn of Satan climbs into my bed and commences his Reign of Terror in the form of Elbows to the Sternum and Carotid and The Pinching of Arm Fat
6:05 am: SOS returns to his own room where he apparently finds it necessary to jump on his sister's head
6:07 am: SOS thunders back into my room shouting, "I NEED SOCKS!"
6:15 am: I climb out of bed to prepare myself for a day of work where I will listen to other people tell me how stressed and tired they are
Good grief, but when did sleeping get to be so hard?


The Kid had her heart set on buying a rotisserie chicken at Sam's, but when we got here, they were all gone. On the way out, we spotted a lady who had eight of them in her cart. The Kid pointed and shouted, "There's the chickens! That selfish lady took them all!"


That one time when you look up and realize that you've been working on just keeping your head above water for so long that you no longer have close friends or a single hobby to speak of. The crochet hook is making an appearance today. And my best friends, Chip and Joanna, will be on the TV.


Who has two thumbs and has just ordered themselves up a Bosch mixer?! THIS GIRL! Get ready for delicious bread, jams and jellies. Except not the jams and jellies.


For once in my life, I wish my dreams and my bank account would agree on something.


Me: You are my favorite girl ever and I think you're the prettiest girl on the planet.
The Kid: Even prettier than your sisters?!
Me: Yes.
The Kid: Man, that's pretty. Because Nancy is really, really pretty.


After The Kid's tattoo incident:
Husband: I can't take you anywhere with those tattoos all over you. People will think you're a hooligan.
The Kid: Well, people can think what they think and I'll think what I think.
Me: And what do you think?
The Kid: I think I look FABULOUS.


The Kid found and used all of the remaining minion tattoos from our Valentine box. She came running into my room and yelled, "Look, mama, I have the Minion Pox!" If it was anything besides minions, she'd look like a mini-felon. As it is, she looks like a cartoon board.


The Kid got out of school early today so I took her to lunch and on the way home, "Man, mama, we should have headed home before this heat wave hit. I am sweltering." 
PS It is currently 79 degrees.


A week of limping around like an old lady is not the most fun I've ever had. The good news: my doctor hooked me up with a Tommy Copper back wrap, so I'm sure I'll be 100% by this evening. Because Brett Farve endorses Tommy Copper and he'd never lie to me.


You know you're in trouble when you hurt your back just sitting down on the floor (damn kids!) I mean, I feel just fine...as long as I don't move. Now all I need is a recliner and back-to-back reruns of Wheel of Fortune on TV and my transition to old lady-hood will be complete.


I would just like to thank the man at the grocery store who walked by me as I was belting out Livin' on a Prayer and said, "Hey girl, make it your own!" You know it, sir!


When you wake up to find that one of your precious children (not naming names or anything, but TATER) managed to leave an unwrapped Hershey's kiss in your bed overnight and you managed to sleep right on top of it. And, in the dark, melted chocolate kind of looks like blood. ‪#‎thoughtiwasdying‬‪#‎stickymess‬ ‪#‎droppinghimoffatthefirestation‬ ‪#‎orgivinghimtothegypsies‬


Today is National Nutella Day and many people, knowing my love for Nutella, have asked me what I will be making. Making?! I intend to eat Nutella straight out of the jar on a spoon just the way God intended. Fools.


That one time when you're flopping around on the floor looking suspiciously like a beached whale in core class and you get a Facebook notification that your 20th high school reunion is right around the corner (which, you feel is an egregious typo because only old people have 20th high school reunions and you, not being old, are obviously not eligible), so you suck it up and try to do at least three more crunches. Because that'll make a difference.


Now whenever we walk into the gym, The Tater starts yelling, "Gotta dance! Need Fireball!" Because one Pitbull fan in our family is apparently not enough.



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