If you would like to know about my day, it started at precisely 5:04 this morning, when Thing 2 got out of bed with all the quietness and stealth of a fraternity of circus monkeys, clanging symbols together on a street corner, looking for peanut handouts.
By 9:00 this morning, I was ready to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for that preschooler of ours, because SURELY it was lunchtime.
It was 9 AM.
By 10:30 this morning, my life was a lot like this:
Instead, while I was peeling potatoes to boil for a potato salad tonight (Why, hello there! I’m on the Whole30. It involves a LOT OF DADGUM COOKING!), Thing 2 watered the plants in our bathroom and the plant on my desk.
The insurance company told me that we actually DON’T have a rider that covers flood damage. Instead of just writing our master bathroom off as a total loss and celebrating the idea of gutting everything and remodeling it in a manner that would bring Joanna Gaines to her feet with a grin and a slow clap, I had to get two bath towels from the linen closet and start sopping everything up.
I think it went well, considering that it only took me twenty entire minutes of mopping and wiping and cussing.
He told me to SETTLE DOWN, HONEY.
Eventually, the potatoes got boiled for the salad, and we hit the park with our cousins to RUN! RUN AND RUN AND RUN!!!
Sister bought blue bubblegum ice cream for everyone who wasn’t currently muscling their way through a Whole30. It dyed Thing 2’s face blue, his hands blue, and one ear blue.
I didn’t ask a lot of questions about how the ear ended up resembling a Smurf’s. There was no need. When Thing 2 eats, food is going to go places it doesn’t normally go with other children.
After we had run the equivalent of six back-to-back marathons in record time and dyed ourselves blue at the park, Thing 2 and I ran errands together. We ended up at the grocery store. By this time, it was late afternoon, and the exuberance and joy that our preschooler had displayed at 5:04 this morning had ALL EVAPORATED.
Five. Entire. Things.
On the way home, Thing 2’s grocery store grumpiness subsided enough for him to loudly serenade me with the theme song from The Grinch.
From the backseat, I got to hear, “You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch! You really are a heel. You’re as cuddly as a cactus; you’re as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch!” And then, as he mashed two songs together, he went into his next round of the mashup without missing a single beat. “Rag doll, livin’ in a movie, rag doll, come on up and see me…”
I have no idea where he learned the lyrics to an Aerosmith song, but I understand that I am no longer in the running for Mother of the Year, 2017, and that I may not be welcome in some parenting circles any longer.
We came back home this afternoon, where I promptly fired up Netflix and told Thing 2, “You are allowed to watch as many shows as you like until dinnertime. You’ve already had blue ice cream with nineteen different kinds of artificial dye and shocked your mother by singing a song by Steven Tyler, so you might as well finish the day by binge watching Mighty Machines.” Thing 2 went on to do just that. He watched what felt like an entire season of Mighty Machines and then chased it with The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.
Clearly, we are timely.
And yes, it’s true. My idea of parenting with the boy, when he was five, was that THE TELEVISION IS NOT FOR SUMMER VACATION, BECAUSE WE WILL GET OUTSIDE AND USE OUR IMAGINATIONS AND LIVE LIFE!! And now… today… with Thing 2, my idea was CAN YOU JUST SIT ON THE SOFA AND GLUE YOUR EYES TO THAT THING FROM NOW UNTIL BEDTIME AND NEVER TOUCH A BATHROOM FAUCET AGAIN, FOR AS LONG AS YOU LIVE?!
People, I’d just like to let you know that we made it clear through until bedtime tonight. Everyone is still present and accounted for at our house. I’m on Day 22 of a Whole30, so I didn’t even cheat by making a dinner out of two bottles of wine and a box of donuts, like I wanted to do.
I COOKED. Sugar-free, gluten-free potato salad with mayo from the health food store and jalapeno turkey burgers with guacamole and poached eggs on top of them, with a side of watermelon. I know… I know. I don’t even know myself any more. WHO IS THIS GIRL WHO COOKS IN MY KITCHEN THESE DAYS AND DOESN’T EAT LEFTOVER CHICKEN NUGGETS OFF THE LITTLE MAN’S PLATE?!
I wouldn’t trade either one of my boys for anything. No matter how deep the water in the bathroom gets after watering the houseplants. Their mama loves them both, with everything she has. They’re keepers… especially since we had a very lovely dinner, with very well-behaved boys at the table.
I made sure dinner was lovely, by microwaving gluten-free chicken nuggets for Thing 2, which he paired with watermelon, cantaloupe and applesauce. Mama ran defense and avoided the volcanic reaction to WHY DO I HAVE A POACHED EGG ON TOP OF A TURKEY BURGER THAT IS HEAVY WITH JALAPENOS AND ONIONS?! I HATE EGGS AND I’M PRETTY SURE IF I WAS BRAVE ENOUGH TO TRY A JALAPENO, I’D HATE THOSE, TOO!!
Have a great weekend.