Welcome to my circus.

A Life in Status- #1 April, 2013

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(Watch it all happen in realtime here)

Danny is sure that the snack he eats at bedtime is called a Batman Snack (instead of bedtime snack). That does make it sound more exciting.

A word of warning from The Baby: What may have started as a fun game of trying to get Mommy to laugh at your bathtub bubbles may end in embarrassment and an unhappy Mommy when you accidentally poop in the tub. Take note.

Josh wrote me a grocery list to take to the store last night. Some of the highlights: toona (tuna), bunanu (banana), chigignnugaits (chicken nuggets), melof (meatloaf), frootsnax (fruit snacks), kugke (cookie), bagn (bacon), and toletpapr (toilet paper). It was a good list.

Me: Honey, can you turn the movie on for me?
Daughter: Mom, I can’t do that. I not a mommy yet.
Good to know.

Just ONCE I would like to spell the word “hygiene” correctly without first typing “hygenie”. Although, it does make me laugh.

Daughter: Mommy, this oatmeal make my body so strong! Make me strong for preschool! But not bugs. Bugs won’t make my body strong. I not eat bugs.
Glad we’ve got that cleared up.

Josh: Mom, that’s a pretty Netflix you’re wearing. (necklace)
#tvshame

Me: Hey, you need to use the bathroom before we leave.
Danny: But Mom, I did that yestertime.
Fair enough.

I question the intellect of the birds who are making nests in our backyard. Judging by the contents of our compost pile, this would not appear to be a safe place to raise their young.
#eggshellgraveyard

1. Meet with a large group of moms for coffee and friendship.
2. Turn in child’s preschool application at a large office building, meet with people who will decide if your child gets into the program.
3. Walk to school to pick up your child.
4. Arrive at school and have your friend say, “Hey. . .is your shirt on backwards.” Realize she’s right.
#classymom

Someday I’d like to turn in a child’s preschool application that doesn’t have jam or crayon on it.

People tell you all the downsides of transracial adoption, but they fail to mention that it’s kind of nice when nobody assumes that’s your child that just relived himself (while you weren’t looking) right in front of the elementary school that’s about to let out for the day. Not that that has ever happened to me. . .

Sometimes I see people saying that hearing friend’s perfect lives on Facebook makes them feel bad about their own. I feel bad for those people. . . because they are clearly not friends with me. If they were, I think they’d feel a lot better.

Josh: Mom! We found a holy poly!
Me: It’s roly poly. R-R-R
Josh: (sigh) We found a wwwwoly poly.
Me: RRRRRROLY. Ruh-ruh-ruh-roly.
Josh: MOM! We found a potato bug!
Fair enough.

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