Promises of epic proportions were made to my unborn child and the Universe as I sat leafing through dreamy Parenting mags when I was pregnant with my first child. I would do better. I would read to her nightly; I would make sure she ate plenty of fruits and veggies so she would love them as she grew up. Oh, and no Barney. That was important.
Needless to say, I have now realized (with three kids) that I suck. All those things went out the window, except Barney...which, now that I think about it, might have been the most important.
Last night was one of those rare moments. The stars aligned, the moon was right, and we actually had a family-ish dinner. That is to say, 3 of the 5 family members ate the same meal. One was at church and opted to eat there (he chose church after he looked at the meal...hmmm....), and Baby Girl just grazes cause she thinks she's Queen of the Universe. (She's wrong, by the way.) We had homemade (let me stress that: HOMEMADE) risotto with sausage, peas, and onions. And I didn't screw it up.
We got homework done, read stories, AND practiced piano. There was laughter involved, bedtime was kinda on time, and I might have heard angels singing at one point. We were those parents others dream of...seriously.
Tonight,well, tonight we might even scare the Super Nanny.
There was going to be dinner, but that was sidelined by a necessary trip to the store. Tween daughter, aka "gonna kill me yet", is going on a weekend trip with her BFF and decided it was a good time to take off her current fake nails (purchased by grandparents who are punishing me for my evil deeds as their child) and then paint over the remaining glue with equally tacky purple nail polish which, of course, needed some silver crackle over that.
Baby Girl has a tummy ache and a snotty nose, oh, and no nap today. She's a real joy. She's so damn happy she's yelled everything she's said to me today. "Sweetie, does your tummy hurt?" "ARRRGGGHH. YES!!!" "Do you want to go lay down?" "DON'T TALK TO ME!!!!" Did I mention she's two? Good times, good times. Son is just brooding about because somehow he thinks going to piano lessons means he doesn't have to do homework. Whhhuuutt?
So dinner ended up being this: Tween made her own noodle "thing"; Son ate two PB&Js; and Baby Girl grazed her way through a cheese stick, some goldfish, a popsicle, a pop-tart, and a yoo-hoo. Better Half might have eaten, but I'm not real sure. I vaguely remember seeing him in the kitchen, but that might have been yesterday and I am remembering it wrong. I have had a most healthy meal of buttered bread, a ginger ale, and a bag of Skinny Cow treats I snuck when I had to go buy the damn fingernail polish remover for Tween's ugly nails. Bet First Lady Obama doesn't invite me to speak on healthy family meals anytime soon!
Sometimes we get it right, and sometimes we get it so, so wrong. It's bedtime and this is what is happening now. Son is in the tub with no homework done and a tornado might have touched down in his room. Tween is still being Betty Crocker in the kitchen and hasn't packed a damn thing for her trip tomorrow. Baby Girl is fumbling around with a plate of noodles that may or may not have been made today. I'm sitting here typing this hot mess and Better Half is reading yesterday's blog. I know...you're jealous. Don't hate the playa; hate the game, baby.
There's always tomorrow, Scarlett.
Needless to say, I have now realized (with three kids) that I suck. All those things went out the window, except Barney...which, now that I think about it, might have been the most important.
Last night was one of those rare moments. The stars aligned, the moon was right, and we actually had a family-ish dinner. That is to say, 3 of the 5 family members ate the same meal. One was at church and opted to eat there (he chose church after he looked at the meal...hmmm....), and Baby Girl just grazes cause she thinks she's Queen of the Universe. (She's wrong, by the way.) We had homemade (let me stress that: HOMEMADE) risotto with sausage, peas, and onions. And I didn't screw it up.
We got homework done, read stories, AND practiced piano. There was laughter involved, bedtime was kinda on time, and I might have heard angels singing at one point. We were those parents others dream of...seriously.
Tonight,well, tonight we might even scare the Super Nanny.
There was going to be dinner, but that was sidelined by a necessary trip to the store. Tween daughter, aka "gonna kill me yet", is going on a weekend trip with her BFF and decided it was a good time to take off her current fake nails (purchased by grandparents who are punishing me for my evil deeds as their child) and then paint over the remaining glue with equally tacky purple nail polish which, of course, needed some silver crackle over that.
Baby Girl has a tummy ache and a snotty nose, oh, and no nap today. She's a real joy. She's so damn happy she's yelled everything she's said to me today. "Sweetie, does your tummy hurt?" "ARRRGGGHH. YES!!!" "Do you want to go lay down?" "DON'T TALK TO ME!!!!" Did I mention she's two? Good times, good times. Son is just brooding about because somehow he thinks going to piano lessons means he doesn't have to do homework. Whhhuuutt?
So dinner ended up being this: Tween made her own noodle "thing"; Son ate two PB&Js; and Baby Girl grazed her way through a cheese stick, some goldfish, a popsicle, a pop-tart, and a yoo-hoo. Better Half might have eaten, but I'm not real sure. I vaguely remember seeing him in the kitchen, but that might have been yesterday and I am remembering it wrong. I have had a most healthy meal of buttered bread, a ginger ale, and a bag of Skinny Cow treats I snuck when I had to go buy the damn fingernail polish remover for Tween's ugly nails. Bet First Lady Obama doesn't invite me to speak on healthy family meals anytime soon!
Sometimes we get it right, and sometimes we get it so, so wrong. It's bedtime and this is what is happening now. Son is in the tub with no homework done and a tornado might have touched down in his room. Tween is still being Betty Crocker in the kitchen and hasn't packed a damn thing for her trip tomorrow. Baby Girl is fumbling around with a plate of noodles that may or may not have been made today. I'm sitting here typing this hot mess and Better Half is reading yesterday's blog. I know...you're jealous. Don't hate the playa; hate the game, baby.
There's always tomorrow, Scarlett.
Right after I finished this and was posting, Baby Girl walks up, pulls her hand from behind her back...Voila! Poopy fingers! That's how we roll.
ReplyDeleteGlad you are back to writing! I can't understand why you might not have had time to write more. (Don't cuss me here). I am just glad that you are having a little more time to your self. Second semester only slows down for a bit and then gets whirlwind fast again. Enjoy your 4 days!
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