On breaking up with perfection. (And choosing to be a dinosaur instead.)
When my husband comes home from work, I brace myself for the question that will inevitably come out of his mouth. “What did you guys do today?” This question is my nemesis. Not the way my husband asks – and certainly not how he intends it – but the way I interpret it. We live in a Pinterest time of DIY sensory bins and handprint turkey crafts and weekly cleaning charts and crockpot meals. We live in a Facebook time where people only post the 1 out of 47 pictures taken where everyone is smiling and where the activities they planned actually went according to plan. We live in an Instagram time where filters hide…
Sexy Eyebrows & Pumpkin Patch Portraits
What in the heck is up with Halloween these days? The boys and I went on a walk around the neighborhood the other day and came up to a house with a bloody corpse hanging from a noose on their tree. Like….really? Really really? “Mommy, what’s that?” “That, buddy, is poor judgment.” And costumes these days?? That’s a joke, right? In my extensive Google search for “Halloween costumes for chubby babies” (true story), I came across the following real-life, available-for-purchase costumes: Sexy Olaf Sexy Marshmallow Man Sexy Garbage Truck Driver Are we that desperate to show off our ta-tas, American women? PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, PEOPLE. You’re ruining costumes for everyone. This has…
Nekked Cheerio Hoarders
When Taylor got home from work he found a post-it note saying, “ARM YOURSELF” with a can of silly string underneath. A war ensued. It was the second best decision made in our house this week – the other being the unnecessary 8oz of cream cheese we added to a white chicken chile recipe. Uhyesplease. The Art of Nakedness It doesn’t matter these days how many clothes I put on my 3 year old boy or how difficult said clothes are to take on/off. It doesn’t matter if they come with 14 buttons or none. Zippers or elastic. At some point during our day (usually at several points) I find…
for real tho…life as of late
It’s been a while since I’ve just documented life as of late which, coincidentally, is what the title of this blog is. And I have a hankering to write words without having to think too hard about them, so howsabout a little update post for my own sake. Like an update on Beckett. He’s 3 and really good at being 3. He is a little tootface that makes me laugh on a minutely basis. Have you seen that little chunky kid who says “apppparennttllyyyy” a lot? That’s Beck with the words “actually” and “seriously”. It’s amazing. He’s potty trained for the most part, and he’s really good at entering a…
But when we do…Jesus.
In normal 3 year old fashion, Beckett was climbing under the coffee table and jostled it, spilling my best friend coffee. I flipped out. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?! DO NOT MOVE THE TABLE. WHY WOULD YOU MOVE THE TABLE? WHO MOVES TABLES??” Unfazed by my obvious overreaction and ridiculous line of questioning (who moves tables, really?), he crawled out and went to find something else to play with. A few minutes later, out dump 3,258 of our Hoarder’s Edition® Matchbox cars all over the floor. “DUDE. WHY. WHY ARE YOU DUMPING ALL OF THOSE OUT? I LITERALLY JUST PUT ALL THOSE AWAY.” He looked over at me and started picking them up before I even…
Oh, the Places You’ll Poo
We spent 30 minutes in a Braum’s bathroom last week. 30 minutes of an 8 hour road trip spent in a fast food bathroom stall. I thought lugging a kid (or two) and a diaper bag into a bathroom stall for my own potty break was intense. I just had no idea. Potty training is no joke. And while the conversations my boy and I have while spending ample time in public bathrooms are a slow and painful death by embarrassment, I know they’ll be funny one day. Maybe you remember these conversations. Or maybe you’re in the thick of them. Or maybe they will make you swear off having children. Regardless, I want to…
A Bugsday to Remember
I recently posted a really sappy Facebook post about Taylor and what a sweet spot our marriage is in. The truth is, I still feel like I should butter him up after last week. Some of my favorite humans invited us to go to the Hillsong concert here and, for once in the past 3 years, we were on time. Showered, dressed, kids handed off, and pulling up to the venue with 20 minutes to spare. I’d never been to the American Airlines Center, so I didn’t know what to expect, but apparently the lot was pretty empty. Taylor: Why isn’t anyone here? Me: I don’t know. Maybe it’s a small crowd. Taylor:…
Celebrity Syndrome
We live in a society where every day people become famous. All the time. Sometimes for no reason. You don’t have to have a once-in-a-lifetime talent. You don’t have to be ridiculously wealthy. You don’t have to be an inventor or a pioneer or a world-changer. You really just need social media. And possibly an element of attractiveness. Or uniqueness. Look at Justin Bieber. He became Forbes’ 3rd most powerful celebrity in 2012, 5 years after being discovered by his YouTube channel. Or Shawn Mendes. His album is currently #1 on iTunes. You’ve probably never even heard of him, but his 6-second Vine videos (totally less than 40 minutes) have launched him into a full-fledged music…
Do GNAT go in your underwear, young man.
I’ve never done an Ironman or even a Tough Mudder but I have potty trained a tiny human, so I get the gist. Sometimes I feel like I should spread out my more…uh…”uncouth” posts, but let’s get real – there’s nothing couth about small children and sometimes the key to survival is laughter. Which is partly why I’ve been a little bit excited about this stage for a while. I knew, despite the frustration and tears and laundry, some great laughs would come from potty training. (A fact I reminded myself of over and over yesterday as I remained crouched on the floor of a Target bathroom stall for 20…
Dung Beetles & Canine Lasers
Last Saturday was a family day full of projects and errands. Midway through our excursions, we stopped in at King Wok for some lunch. (Not to be confused with King Wok II, also by our house. Just regular King Wok.) The mister and I are big fans of good Chinese food which, unfortunately, King Wok is not. It’s quite terrible, in fact. Very…gelatinous. We finished eating and started packing up to head to our next stop. I picked up the babe to change his diaper and my hands touched a wet bum. Never a good sign. I checked his back out and – sure enough – poosplosion. Honestly…my kids never…
