Monday, May 4, 2009
I am SO happy to report that Mckmama has resumed her NotMeMonday posts, and now that most of you have been introduced to special boy Stellan's Momma, you best get on over there and read all the comedy in her carnival of confessions! HEAPS of others take part in this and link back to each other so you can calm your conscience with hundreds/thousands of admissions that *might* even be worse than your own. I actually have not, as of yet, joined in the whole link thing with everyone, as I kind of like to have an idea of who's reading my ramblings...type A control freak, remember? Maybe one day, I'll get the nerve, or the permission not to care, and sign up for the crazy blog traffic...but for now, you, my chocolates, are the special ones who get to read MY NMM's...and there are...a few.
Just tonight, as I was piling up the dinner ingredients in my arms from the fridge, Mr.Funny man Daddy G apparently thought it would be a great idea to tickle me...with my arms full. Subsequently, I can tell you, that of course, being perfect as I am, I did NOT drop a thing, especially a full glass jar of salsa RIGHT on my 4th toe, splitting in in shards. (Really, can you be mad at someone for tickling you? Well, when your bone is sticking out of your toe and your 3 year old brings her play Dr's kit over and your 5 year old it trying to sound out the expletive you just screamed out and is writing it on her report card I have to send back to school...yeah, he gets the silent treatment for a few minutes at least. NOT that this would ever happen in my house...I'm just saying...)
Evening church service. My baby is insanely tired and clingy, seeing as though it is almost 2 hours past his bedtime. I am holding all 29 pounds of his 10 month old self, when I notice his little girlfriend has just fallen and is now crying. Knowing I can not put my boy down, and remembering I actually do have two arms, I bend down to pick her up. There is NO way that she grabbed my shirt for leverage, and ended up pulling the right side completely down over my lacy bra-ed boobie. Of course, I was NOT at the very front of the church, and with no arms free to make this horrible situation right, I certainly would not just walk past rows of people, bra bared, and right out the side to go find a back room to die in. (Really hoping that 84 year old man in the 5th row keeps his head bowed to avoid a possible heart attack.) That poor poor girl. Whoever she is.
My pastor came to pick up King Daddy G yesterday. As he was waiting in his vehicle, windows rolled down, enjoying the sunshine and fresh breeze, our wonderful neighbor did not decide to scream at her son to come in like this," Hey you little s#it, stop b*tching and get inside now!" Awesome. Real classy. So glad that did NOT happen on my street...in front of my pastor.
We had a fabulous playdate planned for Friday. Baby L did not decide to boycott that by coughing all night and then puking right after I got off the phone with playdate Momma. And once I called playdate Momma back to inform her of the new circumstances that were not happening, she did not inform me that she was disappointed because they had made me my VERY favorite pumpkin muffins with cream cheese icing! (All pumpkin baking can be sent to my mailing address, complete with those envelopes exploding with cash I'm still waiting for.) After informing playdate Momma how bad I felt, she, being I am convinced, the sweetest person on the face of this planet, brought them to MY house!! And I can tell you that there is no possible way that all 10 of them were gone before the moon came up that night...cause who does that? Obviously someone who needs a 12 step program for pumpkin addictions...and we all know that's NOT ME!