Welcome to my circus.

A Life in Status- March #1, 2013


(Come find me in realtime right over here)

I clean the kitchen from breakfast. They find the forgotten remnants of last night’s snack and dump popcorn crumbs around the living room. I clean the living room. They take all the pots and pans and wooden spoons out out of the kitchen and start a “band”.
If you find me rocking, twitching, and with a little drool hanging down my chin, try to act surprised.

So if I never watch the most recent episode of Downton Abbey, does that mean The Horrible Thing I’m afraid happens, just doesn’t happen? I may never watch it.

Sometimes what you don’t find in your children’s laundry is scarier than what you do find in their laundry. Like when you’re washing a week’s worth of laundry and don’t find any underwear. . .

What’s worse- the child who can’t be bothered to regularly wipe or the child who used an ENTIRE ROLL of toilet paper this morning?

Signs your family was formed in a non-traditional way:
Your three year-old says she has a foster baby in her tummy.

Sometimes you’re walking around, doing your normal stuff, baby on your hip, and you find yourself humming a song from your past. Then you’re singing, “And where was I before the day that I first saw your lovely face? Now I see it every day. And I know that I am, I am, I am the luckiest” and you look down at your baby’s face looking up at you and you cry. #motherhood

Daughter came around the corner and caught me hiding in the pantry, stealing chocolate out of her candy bag. She sighed, “It okay, Mommy. You can have some.”

A friend loaned me a bottle of beer (which I’m sure didn’t look weird at all to the other moms waiting to pick up their kids from elementary school) to use in a recipe, but it wasn’t until I was going to add the beer that I realized I didn’t know how to open it. I figured it out, but not without spilling a bunch on the counter and now smelling like a back alley.

I have successfully taught my six year-old how to work the clothes drier. . . which means he may now be slightly more capable of living independently than his dad is.

Me: Okay guys, let’s brush your teeth.
Danny: Why? We going somewhere?

I just put frosting and sprinkles on an Oreo. Nobody tell my kids. . . or my mom.

You know your husband works late hours when you drive by his office and your kids say, “Hey, there’s Daddy’s house!”

Danny: Mommy, where your ring come from?
Me: That ring belonged to Daddy’s grandma and he gave it to me as a present when we got married.
Danny: Daddy take it from her?
Me: Oh no, she died before I met your daddy.
Danny: Mommy, who killed her?

If my son ever hears the actual words to Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” he will be surprised to know they aren’t “If you write it then you should have put your name on it” as I sing to him during homework time.

Things hipster parents know:
Babies love The Lumineers “Ho Hey” song.

The Baby has a five just a five word vocabulary. One of those words is “poop”.

“Mom, look! I drew Barkley (our dog). I can draw Joel, too. See? He’s crawling so I just draw Barkley with no tail.” -Josh
Sounds about right.

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  1. GAAA. Typing on phones leads to posting comments that aren’t finished.

    I just found you this week. I can’t remember how, just that it had to do with adoption. But I thought you should know that we must be soul sisters. And I totally love you. Partly because you kept me entertained at the gym this morning (gotta love anyone who can distract me from working out – the bane of my existence). Partly because you sing Beyonce to your kid. But mostly because you stole chocolate from your daughter…which completely made me feel better that I consumed -cough, sputter, two bags, cough- of the boys’ chocolate eggs that their grandparents brought them, thus replaced them with a larger bag, and that bag is currently empty. (I have no clue how that happened.)

    Just popping in to say hello from a new follower! 🙂


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