HA! The last time I wore a slip was in the 7th grade. Princess Di had nothin’ on me. But I feel like I am forgetting something major. Like maybe I forgot to pay the mortgage? The preschool bill? Lord, I hope it wasn’t the preschool bill because if I have to watch both these kids all day you may as well just save time and send protective services over here right now.
I’m gonna whine. Here it comes. I feel so bad about it too. You know how you read those blogs and it’s the same crappy story every single day. Every. single. day. Well that’s my friggin’ life. When someone I love apologizes about not reading my blog in a long time, I laugh. Same story, different part of the house nearly being burnt to the ground. You ain’t missin’ NOTHING if you miss a month here. Life at Chateau Cookie is just like a soap. The only thing changing over here is who is sleeping in whose bed.
For instance, The Husband fell asleep with The Boy last night. I put The Baby to bed. The Husband woke up to bring The Baby for me to feed because he was screaming maniacally. In my defense, I was so exhausted that I never heard him. So here we are in bed. The three of us. Until The Boy wakes up and realizes that he is alone. He screams maniacally and then The Husband puts brings him to bed with us. So now we are all in bed together. The Husband, who has clearly established HIS SIDE/HALF of the bed, The Boy, sleeping diagonally, The Baby, who can’t stand to be touched and me, on 3 inches of bed.
So I get up and put The Baby back in his bed but he isn’t having any part of that. So I take him back out and we get in The Boy’s bed. But now The Baby is up for the day (at 4 am) and so I turn on the light, hand him a book and let him read to himself and basically crawl all over me for an hour. Then I give up and come downstairs to Twitter about my bitterness. I like to think Twitter is absorbing about 90% of my whining. That’s good, right?
I have to go. I left The Boy unattended for 3 seconds with a pair of scissors and now there is a gaping hole in the size of my tree that is approximately 2 feet by 2 feet. Determined to view the glass as half full, there are enough branches from the tree massacre to make three wreaths for the doors and now there is a place to put a wagon (or an economy sized car) under the tree.