“How about when I was in the bathroom last night pooping and Holden walked into my stink cloud? That was funny!”
According to Parker, that is what this blog should be about. As much as it made me giggle to watch Holden fling himself out of an invisible puff of fart, it doesn’t quite make for a fully developed blog. It was my fault for asking, though. I was completely out of things to write about. No matter how hard I thought, or searched, or waited, nothing came to me, and the only place I had left to look was to my kids. Still, I had nothing. How was that even possible? I get the “Man, life in your house must never be dull!” type comments all the time, and they’re right, it never is. We’re always running around doing things, something is always going wrong, someone is always causing a scene, and I’m left standing there wanting to tear my hair out and eat it just so I don’t stress eat all the chocolate in the house, including the morsels I hid in the back of the cabinet for emergencies. Don’t judge me.
Sure, I’m tired- but I don’t really feel like napping. I’m not falling-over-because-my-kid-was-up-all-night-screaming exhausted. I don’t really need to take a few deep breaths to keep from exploding. My kids are frustrating as fuck, but it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I’ve dealt with it ALL before. I no longer have a panicked sense that I will never get everything done. Either I will or I won’t. I don’t really care either way. I know what I’m capable of, and the rest doesn’t bother me. My kids cannot penetrate my force field. I’m used to their shit and shenanigans. Yes, I’m busy- other than right now I am CONSTANTLY doing something, and there are always more things to do, but right now? I’m bored. I’m ACTUALLY bored. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the calm you need to feel in order to get annoyed to not be doing anything that I forget what it felt like. So what do I do now?
Is this it? Have I reached the final level? Have I FINALLY conquered motherhood? Reached the princess in the tower? Is there NOWHERE left to me to go? Shit. No. It just hit me. This is the calm before the storm they call PUBERTY.
….. can I have back diaper changes and projectile vom? Please?? PRETTY PLEASE???
So accurate it's painful pic.twitter.com/B9KQlSx3NO
This is what is winning me EVERY argument EVER. it's a low down dirty mom trick, but I'll take what I can get! holdinholden.com/2017/03/mom-…
Told myself I was going to eat healthier this year, but it's already become obvious that what I meant by that was "eat more tacos"
Mom vs. Kids: How to win EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. goo.gl/fb/3ze4FW
Countdown to the apocalypse: 3.5 days, 3.5 hours. Oh, did I say apocalypse? I meant spring break. Same thing.
Get on it, oil people!! pic.twitter.com/xgXSB34uGf