Found Things

...or, things I found.


This.

When I first saw the above I immediately sent it to Derek, hoping/knowing he would think it was funny, because the truth is the funniest.  Then I had to pretend not to be offended at how funny he found it.  I am a joy to live with.






This.

This gif is a scarily accurate representation of Adelaide and I when debating the pronunciation of words.  Yesterday's was "lenient," (Adelaide:  "lenn-ee-ent," Me: "lean-ee-ent") the day before that was the name "Seamus."  (Adelaide:  "See-muss," Me:  "Shay-muss.")

So, just to recap, Adelaide:  Almost always wrong;  Me:  Almost always right.  Admitting that the other person is right, Adelaide:  Never;  Me:  Never.  We are each of us a joy to live with.








This.

I now have two part-time jobs, although one is just through the fall, and so far I love them both, but as is turns out I cannot work, be a reasonable person to live with, run, blog, cook, and keep a decent house all at the same time.  Today's free time was either going to go to blogging or cleaning, and guess which one won?  (Hint:  The one that did not involve getting off the couch, and another hint:  You should not need a hint to answer this question.)

This.

I feel like this warning label could have been made for our children.  "But mom, why can't I go to the park by myself?  It's just around the corner!"  

"Because not everyone is looking out for your best interest, Daughter."

"Please, Mom, this is Brave New World, Iowa.  There aren't those kind of people here."

"OH, REALLY?"  *Proceeds to tell Daughter disturbing but true story that occurred in our little town a few short years ago.*

[Two days later]

Derek:  "Why is Adelaide afraid to leave the house?  And why has she been having nightmares?"

Me:  *shrugs*

Blargh

Isn't it funny how five inches of snow in December causes our children to wake up and cry, "SNOW!", but five inches of snow in March provokes responses more like, "Snow.  Blargh."  Your perspective goes from "Winter wonderland, tra la la," to "Freezing cold, white homogenous wasteland, blargh."

Adelaide is currently using a magic eraser to clean off the front of the fridge, because she's having her umpteenth snow day of the school year and wouldn't stop talking to me.  (WHAT?  I talked to her all morning, okay?  This is naptime, the most glorious time of day, where I don't have to talk to anybody if I don't want to.  And I usually don't want to.)

The good news is: despite all this snow, it is March, which means that spring is supposedly on the way (I'm skeptical), and the kiddos and I are heading south this coming weekend to spend spring break with family.


-Attention, internet creepers:  the previous paragraph is not an invitation to come try and break into our home whilst we are away; notice that I said 'the kiddos and I,' which means you'll still have to face 6 feet 5 inches of corn-fed Iowa beef that answers to the name Derek.  Trust me when I say you don't want to go there.-


I was daydreaming with our children this morning about all the things we're going to do while we're there, listing things like play outside, color with chalk, play outside, jump on the trampoline, and play outside.  Adelaide glumly informed me that we're not going to be able to do any of those fun grandma's house things because of all the snow and cold, when I reminded her that we were going to a magical land called southern Kansas where the forecasted highs while we're there are in the 70's.  THE 70'S.  Adelaide and Atticus jumped around in glee, and Cade ran circles around them, excited because they were excited.

Until then, we just have to get through the rest of this snow day (Adelaide is now cleaning the front of the dishwasher, humming a merry tune because she thinks she's almost done- little does she know how filthy I just noticed the oven door and stove top are!  *Cue evil cackling*), a dance clinic and performance that have been squished into one day due to the snow, parent teacher conferences, and a million other little things.

Gracious sakes, how long has it been since someone cleaned the trash can?  Maybe I do love snow days!

This Is Not a Potty Training Post

Hey there, Mama.

I'm talking to you, all of you, mothers of little children.  I can call you something as familiar as "Mama" because I'm currently a mother of littles, too.  We're brethren... sistren... why isn't there a fancy word for sisters?

Anyway, sistren, we need to have a talk.  Yes, one of those.  It's time for some tough love.

Before I begin, let me just say that I get it.  I really, really do.  When you have small children, your world often shrinks, because you're so busy changingdiaperscleaningupvomitdoingmountainsoflaundrynotshowering that you don't have much time for things like painting your toenails and keeping up on world news.  It's so easy to immerse yourself in this focused (and dirty) little kingdom that you start to do things you would never normally do.  Things that, if you were halfway sane (and any parent will tell you that parenthood leads to madness.  It just does.  And if they can't admit that, they'll say things like, "Parenthood doesn't make you crazy!  Oh, and watch out for the mutant chicken- she tends to come around this time of day, trying to eat people.  I think she's mad I'm not a vegetarian anymore and keep eating her children for breakfast HAHAHAHAHA!"), you wouldn't dream of doing- in fact, Sane You would be appalled at what Insane You is currently doing.

One day, you're chasing your kids around, still at least partially in your right mind, and the next, you're praising Junior for his amazing toilet prowess, letting your poor, exhausted brain takes its final turn 'round the bend, and telling the entire world, in graphic detail, exactly what your son just deposited in his potty chair.

I am talking, of course, about posting about potty training on Facebook.  Or any other social media outlet, for that matter (unless it's a parenting forum dedicated to potty training- then go ahead, over-share your little heart out).

Now, just untwist those panties of yours and listen for a second.  I know what you're going through, okay?  I know how frustrating potty training can be, and how elated a parent can feel at a potty training breakthrough. (No more diapers!  One less bodily fluid to touch on a daily basis!  Holy crap here comes that chicken again, she's seriously pissed today!)  I know what it is to be thrilled at the sight of a little bit of disgusting-ness in the toilet, okay?   I do.

That thrill and elation has a place, though, and it is not with your 471 "friends", mmkay?  Would you walk up to that girl you haven't seen since high school, or your old college professor, or your boss's wife, and trill, "JUNIOR JUST POOPED IN THE POTTY AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT IT SOUNDED LIKE WHEN IT LANDED AND THIS IS EXACTLY THE SOUND HE MADE WHEN HE WAS SITTING THERE!  ISN'T THAT JUST SO GREAT?!"

No.  You would not.  (Please, Heavenly Father, tell me you would not.)

But you know what?  Broadcasting that kind of information on Facebook (or Twitter, or whatever) is just that:  Broadcasting.  You are letting every single person- and often people you don't even know, depending on your security settings- know about something that will humiliate both your child and you when your sanity returns (please, Heavenly Father, tell me it will).  Not only do 99% of the people you have just invited into the bathroom with you and your preschooler not care, they are now grossed out and seriously questioning any future involvement with you.

Here's what to do instead:  Pick up the phone.  Call your spouse.  Call your mom.  Call your mother-in-law.  Call your sister.  Call your close friend.  To be perfectly honest, there's an even chance they won't care, either, but I'm betting they will love you enough to pretend otherwise and be thrilled for you.  (Oh, but NO PICTURE TEXTS.  I have to say it because there are people out there who do that kind of thing.)


I do feel like I should add that every once in a while I come across a potty training post done right.  It's either incredibly brief, incredibly funny (but not graphic), or a detail within a larger story.  They're few and far between, but they do exist.  Examples:  "Kid #8 is finally potty trained- 15 years later, we're finally done with diapers THANK YOU JESUS."  "My son just fell in the toilet and is now hysterically crying but I'm laughing so hard I can't fish him out so I decided to come post it on FB and leave him there to pickle in his own juices (2.5 years later but I'm finally exacting my revenge for 52 hours of labor, Mr. My Shoulders Are As Big As My Head At Birth)."



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