(Catch the craziness live over here)
Send husband out for a gallon of paint. He comes home with a gallon of paint. . . and also a table saw.
Got me again, Lowes.
Daughter: Mommy, I have a baby in my tummy?
Me: Oh no. You have lots of growing up to do and let’s be sure you have a husband first.
Daughter: . . . I have a husband in my tummy first?
These are the conversations I hope she won’t remember later.
Million dollar idea of the day: “Babybook via Facebook”- An app that automatically uploads all the adorable status updates you’ve written about your child and pictures you’ve posted of your child into a baby book format. Lazy but social parents, UNITE!
The laughter of little children- sometimes the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. . . sometimes makes you want to pull your hair out.
The kids don’t want to eat spinach. You tell them they’ll be strong like Popeye. They eat the spinach and then immediately start punching each other.
You should have seen that coming.
Me: You need to go shut the door since you were the last one in the house.
Daughter: It was DANNY!
Me: No, it was you, Honey.
Daughter: (mumbling) I wish it was Danny.
And now the truth comes out.
(I taught the little ones Duck, Duck, Goose today)
Daddy: What did you guys do today?
Daughter: We play Duck, Duck. . . Chicken.
Daddy: Oh really? How do you play that.
Daughter: You lose.
Close enough.
Children are never better behaved than they are during the time when they realize they should be going to sleep but you forgot to put them down.
I’m pretty sure the money you save on diapers by potty-training a two year-old is immediately spent on toilet paper.
(overheard the three year-old saying something unkind)
Me: Hey! You come here right now.
Danny: I sorry, Mommy! I not want you to talk to meeeeeeeee!
Apparently my lectures are the best weapon I’ve got.
#nailedit
I have a child who hates tomatoes. To avoid any tears I told him we’re having “ketchup soup”.
#granolamomfail
I know it’s a waste to buy organic bananas because the peel protects the fruit from pesticides. This does assume your children don’t feel compelled to eat the peel. . .
Danny: Mommy, I cried at Cubbies because I missed you. . .in my spinny way.
The two great loves of Danny’s life: mommy and spinning. I’m not sure what he meant, but I know it’s adorable.
Danny would appreciate your condolences today. He just figured out all the dinosaurs are dead.
I guess it doesn’t show much faith in your dinner if you eat a can of tuna while cooking it.
How to get baby poop in your face (not for the squeamish):
1) Baby poops out the side of his diaper while wearing footie pajamas.
2) You take off footie pajamas to find poop down his leg and declare loudly, “You need a bath!”
3) Baby begins excitedly flailing his legs in anticipation of the bath you mentioned.
Mission accomplished.
Me: Why do you have my comb in the bath?
Josh: Danny gave it to me. You know. . . for scratching my bootie.
Sigh. . .
Josh wanted to play in the backyard. I said he could but asked if he could please not get his shoes so muddy this time. Just now I looked out the window and saw he’s playing in the mud in his socks.
Guess I should have been more specific.
Me: Do you guys want to watch “Pocahontas”? It’s about an American Indian like Danny.
Daughter: And me? I an Indian?
Me: No honey, remember? You’re Mexican.
Daughter: I NOT a UPSICAN! I just a little GIRL!
Apparently race is more complicated than I thought.