Tag Archives: humor

reading between the lines

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The phrase: I have a few more patients to see, and then I’ll be home.

My meaning: I have three patients to see. I will be home in an hour. We can do something when I get home.

Husbands meaning: I have at least 12 patients to see, don’t expect to see me until midnight. Don’t expect to socialize ever again as a couple.

 

The phrase: Do you want tea?

My meaning: do you want tea?

Husbands meaning: Can you make tea for me, and you can also have some if you want, but mostly I just want you to make me some tea because it is really hard to fill that thing up with water and press the button…. and then getting sugar and tea bags! Forget about it. I can wait you out on this.

 

The phrase: It was fine.

My meaning: It was fine, not super good or bad.

Husbands meaning: I hated it. Never again. But I’m too polite to say that, so you will be confused and possibly angry if you try to get me to do this again because I will find a way to avoid it.

hmmmm, how many of us need interpreters in our homes?

Meh.

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Diet-cat

bluestmuse.com

For the past week, I’ve been walking around with aching muscles. I’ve been packing things like crunchy granola bars and fresh fruit to eat at work.

I’ve been working out, even though on one occasion the 5 year old had to shame me into it.

I have drastically scaled down my junk food snacking, depending on not just my gummy vitamin D’s, but gummy fish oil and gummy probiotics to pick up the slack.

Today…. Sammy and Jenna wanted pizza for dinner, he missed pizza day at school this week.

I ordered it…

then I worked out while I starved and watched them stuffing the greasy cheese pizza into their faces (with sides of fresh fruit and veggies). I did two workouts.

I then piled a plate with salad, got a glass of water, and ONE piece of pizza.

Normally I would have downed 2 or 3 pieces, NOT worked out, and chewed the pizza with mouthfuls of sprite or iced tea squishing together in blissful harmony before swallowing. I don’t drink much soda, but I find with pizza, it is the drink of choice for me. I love the interaction between carbonation and greasy crust…. fizzy, squishy, greasy goodness.

I did have a fleeting moment of what might have been real motivation to improve my lifestyle and health last week, but it didn’t last beyond a 30 second sense of supreme optimism.

I have since gotten very familiar with this feeling of…Meh. Basically mad at pizza for being bad for me, mad at chocolate for making me want it, mad at myself for being mad about wanting to be healthy, and forcing myself to do it anyway. I’m so MEAN.

I can’t wait until I’m 72. I’ve decided that is the age I will decide enough of this crap, and enjoy ho-ho’s and peppermint patties all day long if I want.

 

I used to be beautiful

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young

Before kids…… courtesy of dreamstime.com

By the end of yesterday I seemed more aware for some reason of the amount of yelling I do each day. I don’t think anyone can hear me if my voice is not at least moderately raised, and each request must be repeated at least 5 times.

I remember attempting to lecture Sammy at the store about how his repetitive behavior and ignoring of my requests to stop were just going to hurt him in the long run…because I certainly wasn’t going to bother getting him the frozen sorbet treats we specifically came for. Thankfully they didn’t have them anyway so I couldn’t give in.

But it doesn’t matter. Every day, EVERY DAY….. they must test me. I’m pretty convinced it’s their only purpose for being here right now. They haven’t found a greater purpose yet, so will continue to poke away at my sanity until they find something better to do.

Sometime last night, getting them ready for bed…. I’m again lecturing about how tired I am of repeating myself, and repeating myself, and repeating myself…..

My eyes might have looked a little bit crazy. I could feel creases forming on my forehead… creases that were not there before…. and they felt like they were just getting really settled and comfortable in my now regular facial expression of crumpled brow and squinty eyes.

“Do you see this!!??”  I asked Sammy, pointing to my poor, worn out forehead. “I didn’t look like this before, 5 years ago I was beautiful!!”

He laughed.

And then Jenna said she refuses to play with me again until I kiss her and say I’m sorry.

And I’m just trying to hold my forehead from caving in all together.

funny grandma

after kids…….. courtesy of blogdesuperheroes.es

 

 

The trouble with a tongue

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tongue1

I find myself, multiple times a day, telling the 3 year old to keep her tongue in her mouth. I fear if we don’t learn to restrain the thing, she may have problems later in life.

It tends to snake out of her mouth and test the air….for temperature, scent??, I’m not sure…. but it doesn’t like to stay where it belongs. How many times can you tell someone to keep their tongue out of their nose…. their nose!!!  This is not something that will be understood in school. I see possibly some popularity from it in preschool, at least with the boys…. but some unwanted attention from those same boys in later years…..

This tongue is amazingly long, it might even help her with balance as it extends out of her mouth while running…… A throwback from prehistoric times?… or is this a new adaptation that we will start to see in future generations? Maybe we just haven’t discovered the extent of it’s purpose yet.

Stay tuned, possible new talent or superpower to be discovered….

tongue2

 

 

 

Girl power

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gp

courtesy of: Pinup Girls https://www.booster.com/girl-power

Yesterday, Jenna had a preschool interview.

This consisted of me bringing her to the school, taking her to the class, and leaving her for 25 minutes while I silently panicked and attempted grown-up conversation with the admissions lady.

First amazing thing…. she didn’t care if I left her in a classroom full of strange kids. Here I am hovering, and she doesn’t even look at me when I ask if I can leave her there for a little bit. She’s busy making fake cupcakes, and gives me a preoccupied “sure” as she concentrates on pink sprinkles.

Back in the office with admissions lady. Now, I know this lady, I’ve had Sammy in this school for 2 years. I should not be this nervous. But, as she sits across from me, smiling gently and so composed looking…. I just start spewing out all sorts of information because I feel the need to talk. To say SOMETHING to fill the silence, and take up time while I wait to hear Jenna’s screams as she realizes she is actually very attached to me.

After I bare my soul for a seemingly endless amount of time, we walk down to the classroom. I look through the glass, wondering if I will see any signs of distress.

Nope. Rolling clay with the teacher.

I watch another girl pick up the rolling pin that Jenna just put down. I hear Jenna yell “hey, that’s mine!”  I watch the girl hand it back without a word.

We walk into the room, and I ask how did she do?

At this age, they don’t focus or really care about the fact that she is almost reading. They do focus on social skills. I am told that She “really knows what she wants”.

This is a nice way of telling me she really bossy.

We are driving home and I ask her how she liked playing with the kids?

“Mommy, I don’t like those 2 little girls.”

What little girls???

“The ones that tried to play with my oven.” They were behind me but I pushed her away with my back. Mommy, I don’t want to play with my oven with those girls.”

So, we need to work on sharing. But I’m kind of excited…. she is the first kid, the FIRST ONE that actually speaks out for herself at this age. I might be hated, SHE might be hated by other parents soon…. but I’m pretty sure she won’t be bullied. Now to make sure she’s not the bully….

I don’t want to succeed

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junk

courtesy of superhealthykids.com

This week, I had a plan.

Eat healthy, get back to working out every day.

I’m sabotaging myself, and not feeling guilty enough about it yet.

What do burger king onion rings, chocolate peanut butter brownies, skittles, Starbucks beverages, peppermint patties, and lots of chocolate ice cream have in common???

Equal contribution to my failure and gluttonous satisfaction.

And so, tomorrow…. probably…. I will do better.

5 year old angst

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A bull in a China shop

courtesy of attunity.com

The 5 year old has been sick for…..6 days now. However, he seems to be feeling better and is again showing signs of life.

I came home from work today and sat next to him on the couch after the babysitter left.

He’s not happy.

Seems he keeps wanting to do things that the sitter doesn’t want him to do.

It happened a lot today.

This bothers him.

“Mom, it’s not like I’m trying to be bad. I mean, I know sometimes I am, but I can’t help it….I’m just trying to have fun with my life!”

With this serious look on his face.

I think it’s a reasonable expectation for him to have….

But out of curiosity…. I ask him what kind of things was he doing?

At first he doesn’t remember. Then he wants to show me. Walks over to one of our living room chairs, proceeds to summersault onto the chair, head down, legs up in the air…. and knocks over a picture from the table next to him.

He’s mortified.

I think we may have realized why she was saying no….. maybe.