TheMommyBlog

Tuesday, June 15, 2004 Me, Me, Me

Good evening, and welcome to this edition of Ask Mindy, where I attempt to get some answers out of myself.

Why won’t my middle child wear clothing on the bottom half of his body, ever?
Because it’s hot, and because it’s fun, and because you care.

Why does my elder child insist, in direct contrast to the middle child, on wearing a full complement of boxers, shirt, pants, belt, sock & shoes, all the damn time?
Because he is a total clothes nerd, and we fear for his social acceptance. But he does do a mean Richard Attenborough.

Why are all of my forks, knives, and spoons scattered across the lawn?
I have no answer for that. You might ask the Russian nanny who was supposed to be supervising the making of the brownies, which mostly took place in the yard, by the look of things. Either that, or a lot of baby chicks hatched on the slate patio this afternoon and were subsequently baptized in Hershey’s syrup.

Why have my childrens’ diapers/pull-ups/bladders suddenly lost all carrying capacity and soaked my bed three nights in a row?
Because you made baby Jesus sad when you were a little girl.

Why am I so dang tired, and why did I keep falling asleep at my computer yesterday, and why did I need two naps on my office couch, and why did our consultant insist on bringing me a huge burger for lunch, and my, look at my pretty, snow-white nail beds, and why is my doc insisting that I get a blood count tomorrow to see if I need a transfusion?
Because you have been under tremendous stress, and have been bleeding for almost six weeks, you fool, and practically went into labor to deliver that accursed IUD last week, and you haven’t slept through the night in at least a year, and I bet you can’t even remember the original question, can you? Well, can you?? Gah. Get back into bed and stay there. Pam! We need more M&Ms! Stat!

Tuesday, June 15, 2004 QOTD

Daphne: You’re my mom!

Dylan: My mommy!

Daphne: No!my mommy!

Logan: Come on, Daphne, she can be our mommy!

Dylan: No fair!!

Me: My three little poopsies!

All three children, over and over and over and over: My poor little poopsies!

Logan: Come on, poopsies, let’s go jump on Daddy!

Dylan: Mommy, Daphne’s lying in the peepee!
Dylan: Come on over here, Daph, there?s no peepee here.

Me: Daphne, get off your brother’s face.

Me: Dylan, for the last time, go put on some underwear!

Dylan: Mommy, I like you.

Me,  shouted to Dylan who is dancing naked on my bed with the blinds up, from the sidewalk before driving away: UNDERWEAR!

And later? from a particularly insightful colleague commenting on a rather unappetizing image of a third party, naked and sweaty: “Make your bottom close with a smack, huh?”

Monday, June 14, 2004 Weblogs

If I ever get this lazy... shoot me. Shoot me dead and cover me with branches.

Having said that, I do have a few favorites:
Pot Log: Whooaaa! Check out the graphs, dude!
Clothes Log: Rate my pants!
Bowel Movement Log: Rate my… um, don’t, on second thought.
Meeting Productivity Log: Increase your productivity… not!
Sex Log: Gah. Gah, gah and triple-gah.

Sunday, June 13, 2004

Hmmmm… wasn’t I supposed to answer some questions before getting a quiz result? Don’t get me wrong—I’m flattered—but, Genuine, can I get a ruling??

Sunday, June 13, 2004 Family

Heh. Give me a beautiful, sunny day, a garden hose, goofy children, a great digital camera, a nice dinner, a few glasses of wine, and to round it out, a sleeping, peaceful household, and just look what you get!