I am nothing but resourceful, but today I hit the wall. With Nick's illness, and the house a disaster of cheerios and stick -- laundry up to my eyeballs, I thought I was going to go Andrea Yates on someone's butt. (Okay, not that bad - just super frustrated.) God bless my amazing mom who showed up at 12:00 and gave me 2 hours of peace. In that short amount of time I was able to down a #1 Inn and Out Burger combo (sadly, with a Diet Coke, but only one... I am only cheating with 1/day... I'm in control...and now the definition of addict in denial). I then mailed off 12 Ebay packages, did food shopping at the Whole Foods (grocery store's version of Disneyland) and got my eyebrows waxed. I'm telling you, if I can get this much crap packed into 2 hours, I'd be running the country with a nanny - just kick Geena Davis right out of her oval office role. Got home, the kids were pooped, and both went down for 3 hour naps. With some well needed quiet time, my house was starting to look decent again. I was even able to sleep myself with the delicious excitment of my sister coming by to help with the kids tonite.
Then she canceled due to fires causing horrific gridlock.
Then Nick had a nosebleed .
Then Sophie started screaming.
The answer to all this?
Sophie is a regular little carnivore, managing to keep quiet for ten minutes (call the Guiness Book of World Records) as she ingested pre-mommy chewed up non-hygenic steak. With the coveted calm, I tended to Nick's gusher, managing to hold his nose down in one hand as I downed some morsels with the other (thinking it ironic that I'm reinforcing my iron and while he lost his. Also thinking that this is really not that insightful and clearly I need a vacation. On Pluto. Someplace warm and distant. Is Pluto hot? As any of my friends can tell you, I am geographically and astronomically speaking a complete moron). Nick is now ready to sit at the table and eat some himself, giving me another 15 minutes of calm.
Sorry you vegetarians, but I can guarantee, from the bottom of my soul, that cow didn't die in vain.
PS: After a few accidents as of late, Nick just told me his tummy hurt and he needed to sit on the toilet, which he pronounces tooooy-lit (a toy-lit is also what happens when you cross a barbie doll with a joint). My big boy pooped like a trooper!
PSS: In two years, all of you will be dramatically cut off from my cyber space page when Nick comes home in tears because not only can he read, but every kid in kindergarten knows about his documented bowel movements.