Saturday, August 27, 2016

Questions for my Kids...

Are you the only person in your house that knows how to change the roll of toilet paper?  This is code speak for change the roll so the tissue is falling the correct way.

Not that I have control issues.

Have you ever found a container of Organic milk that costs over 5 bucks a gallon, left unattended on the kitchen table 3 hours after breakfast was eaten?  Do kids, jump up after eating, and say: breakfast completed!  That super expensive, deliciously cold gallon of milk  that came right out of the fridge, doesn't need to go anywhere.

Bye!  I'm off to play/school/ hang the toilet paper roll incorrectly. What the H-E-double hockey sticks.

Have you ever found one of your kids bawling their eyes out on the second day of school, while her twin sister, has seemingly had "the BEST day of her life"?!, (no names shall be used to protect the innocent)

It's like observing a live reenactment of Comedy/Tragedy.


In a different life, on another planet, in a place that does not exist in reality, I would receive answers to these questions.  But for the time being, I remain bewildered by these conundrums that have taken over on the daily in my home.


Riddle me this:  why do my girls leave smelly, crunched up, dirty socks stuffed inside their shoes, at the end of the day?  This one makes me really ponder my very existence.

Like will they wake up tomorrow after a sound slumber, and say, "Gosh, I can't WAIT to put on those nasty ass socks I wore yesterday, that have been marinating in my own foot juice overnight!"  

For the love of yo Mama, I know it's an entire additional 2 steps, but please put them in the dirty laundry basket.  I'll even pay you...by letting you live.


Parents of daughters, you will relate to this one:  why are there so many hair bands littering my entire house?  Pink hair bands on the kitchen table, stuck in a fresh puddle of syrup from this morning's pancakes and next to the $5 warm gallon of organic milk.  Blue hair bands on the bathroom floor.  Multi colored hair bands under any, and all beds, including my own.  Glittery hair bands stuffed into underwear drawers.  Nasty hair bands washed up in the tub drain, matted with tangled, and slimy wet strands of hair. Hair bands crusted with toothpaste that someone smeared all over the bathroom counter.  Hair bands knotted in shirts, to make said shirt fit more snugly. (WTF?!!!)

And my personal favorite...hair bands used as adhesive "belts" on hundreds of small stuffed animals to hold toilet paper clothing in place.

It's like Hansel and Gretel... but no bread crumbs...just HAIR BANDS.

Why is Charlotte hugging me so much lately?  Not like, a sweet, little snugly hug.  But more like a constant and needy, incessant smothering, 'I'm here to suck the ever loving life out of you',  hug? What's happening?  Is she regressing?  Is something going down at school?  Is this just a phase?

 HEY!!  Is that a hair band in her shirt?!!!!!

Why do the Bigs routinely ask, "Mooooom, have you started (your period) yet?

 Like I'm the Mother Ship of Menstruation.  The Ovulation Boss Lady.  The Timekeeper of Uterine Wall Shedding?

 It's like these teenage girls are  full of raging hormones that make them irritable, hangry for carbs and sugar, while simultaneously, wanting to take a 4 hour nap in the middle of the afternoon,

 And they turn to me like I'm the Period Gate Keeper.  I want to shake my fist and shout, "I'm just a Peri-menopausal mother who lives in a shoe, with too many children, and I may have a hot flash at any given moment, and doesn't know what to do."

If you're a dude, and don't get any of this, just a heads up:  typically, the oldest female in the tribe, sets the "tone" so to speak.  The Elder is  the beacon, and our ducklings follow our lead.  Simply put:  we start, and they follow.

Still not with me?  Watch any female sports team for a month. You'll become an expert at this.

At this point, it's all coming to fruition:  my understanding of why back in the day, women went into a Menstrual Hut for a week to cycle together.

 In fact, I'm thinking we should bring that back.  Put me in a tent, where I can put my feet up, read People magazine, and eat crap food that I neither cooked or prepared.  A place where everyone hangs the toilet paper roll correctly, puts the organic milk back in the fridge without being prompted, and actually uses hair bands for pony tails, all while placing their dirty socks in the laundry basket.

Sounds like a DREAM.












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