You ever say something in response to one of your little people, and immediately wonder what freaking planet you’re on and how you got there? Well that’s an average Tuesday in our all American household.
Shit I’ve argued with my preschooler about this week:
1. Candy < A Wholesome Breakfast
Yes, Vampirina, Halloween was spooky, amazing, and ALL the things. No, my dear, mommy didn’t eat any of that “special candy” that makes her let you do whatever the hell you want, such as eat 6 Twizzlers before a long day of learning at the “Rooster School”. Sidebar:: I’ve done the bloodwork and she’s definitely mine. I don’t know why she (or anyone for that matter) thinks Twizzlers are good, but we will keep her anyways I guess.
2. Bedtime is not for camels.
Of course you’re thirsty... it’s 8pm. Listen, kid, I was the best bamboozler this side of the Mississippi for a looooong time. I literally invented stall tactics. My mom used to tell me stories of me slithering like a snake down the hall and melting down the stairs, hoping no one would notice me watching Cops from behind the recliner. I feel a negative amount of guilt about the fact that you are crawling across the floor acting like it’s the Sahara because you just want one teeny sip of water before bed. Sweet dreams, drama llama.
3. The HiPad is going to get me put in the nut house if you ask for it one more time.
That damn thing is the definition of a love/hate relationship. It’s nice if mama wants a minute without hearing so many questions like “but what trouser snake means?” (Thank you #FamilyFued for NEVER keeping it kid friendly at 7 pm on a Wednesday.) It’s not so nice when I don’t even think Brain Balance can help her when she is sitting on her bed screaming pre-k obscenities at me over watching Ryan’s latest toy review on that blessed contraption. It’s a double edged sword for sure.
4. You can’t take a photo with EVERY mannequin in EVERY store.
It’s too much!! Do you know how many headless folks there are at Dick’s Sporting Goods?! I hope not. I do. That little lady in the feature photo up top has a special relationship with those plastic people. It creeps me the eff out. She literally hugs them and must shake ALL of their hands like they are her best friends in the world. The Old Navy children and the Target dog are her adopted family. I don’t understand the connection, but she also told me she sees people who are in heaven this week, so there’s that.
5. No, psycho, you can’t drive to dinner.
You’ll have plenty of time to drive mommy and daddy around when you’re 16. Trust that! What?! There’s a future with no Rock Paper Scissors for who has to drive home after a wine dinner with friends?! (Chill out, folks. The loser obviously drinks responsiblier.) Sign me up! But for now, my ambitious little crazy pants, you may NOT drive to dinner.
These are just the ones that really got my goat this week. I thought it would be helpful to take a moment to reach out to other parents on planet “What the Hell?!” to let you know that you aren’t alone, and their crazy evolves over time. Still as unreasonable as Kanye, but at least they comprehend the words that are coming out of your mouth.... Lort willing.
#winethoughts #allthewine #theanxietymom #whatthehell