Thoughts, Half Chewed

If it tells you anything about my silence for the last few weeks, I’ve actually started to write this twice. First, Bo woke up an hour early from his nap. So I got up with no actual words yet typed to shoo him back to bed.

My rear had hardly re-connected with my desk chair before I smelled my potatoes burning on the stove, so I jumped back up (still no words typed) to save them from ruin. Crisis averted. While I was there I even remembered, forgot, and remembered once again the cornbread bubbling in the oven.

And this is a good day. MB is at the movies, and therefore not hanging monkey-like to the back of my chair. So I can actually think and type at the same time. It feels like the rarest luxury.

I don’t really have any whole thoughts to share, though. Only the half-chewed ones that float through my mind between–

MOMMY! MOMMY! Tucker’s cwyyyyyiiiiinnnnng! Mommy, I have to go pee peeeeeee!!! Mommy, what do sharks eat? Mommy, I want to go somewhere. Mommy can I have a snack? Can you open it? Can you cut it? Can I have water? With ice. NO ICE! YES IIIIIICCCCCE!!!!

But one of my half-chewed thoughts was about this song which I heard for the first time this week in the car. Oh man, I just sobbed in recognition of my tired, weary self. Sometimes you just give what you’ve got, you know?

So here you go. It’s not pretty, but I’m going to give you what I’ve got–

1. I’m going to homeschool Mary Bullock for kindergarten.

IMG_4453

2. You know what I love about Body Pump? It’s one of the few places where I don’t have to think. I show up, I turn my brain to the off position, I sweat, I leave. It’s glorious. You should try it.

3. Bo loves Christmas music, y’all. It occurs to me that I’m just now realizing this because last Christmas he was barely talking to us! Now we can hardly get him to zip it. But OH MAN, when he starts swaying in his carseat to Someday at Christmas, it’s a wonder I can even drive without crashing. It’s probably the best thing I have ever seen in a rearview mirror.

IMG_4374

4. I wish I had done a better job of putting down on paper the people and things I am thankful for this month (or ever). I am terrible about writing things like this down, but I hope that this year I’ve treated people in a way that shows them I’m thankful even if I didn’t call them out on fb for #30dot.

IMG_4440

5. Tucker. Oh my goodness. That baby. He currently has about 5 different bruises on his forehead. He looks like Frankenstein. I wish I could get a good picture, but he is never ever ever still. This is where I’m really glad that I love his name. Because I say TUCKER BOONE¬†at least a hundred times a day. Because his antics are so much worse than a simple TUCKER will fix. Do you do that to your children? Call them by all their names when they’re in trouble?

IMG_4370

So that’s my list– half chewed, but whole-hearted. Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

And now I hear babies stirring, and I only get one shot on the shooing back to bed trick.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

Advertisements

Like Father, Like Daughter

Something about my pregnancy with Mary Bullock lit an entrepreneurial fire in Lee. I think scrolling through thousands of must have baby products online got him thinking about what he could contribute and, of course, make us fabulously wealth from.

His first big idea was organic baby food. Only, I was quick to point out, that already existed.

His second idea was baby weights.As in, weights you strap to babies’ hands and feet so they can work out without realizing it.

I thought it was tantamount to torture. He thought it was GENIUS. And I could never really tell if he was kidding or if I needed to double check MB’s crib at night for covert exercise equipment.

So, in a moment that was truly full circle, MB went on a gluing spree this morning that resulted in this:

20131118-162208.jpg

20131118-162309.jpg

What is that? I asked her.
It’s a weight bar for my baby.

Of course it is.

On Target with Tucker

I just made it through one maddening but entirely necessary trip to Target with Tucker. He whined, screamed, wiggled out of the buggy seat, tried to steer the cart, dashed out of the checkout lane while I was unloading.

So of course then I realized my wallet was in the car. Because no hellacious trip to Target would be complete without that.

As I walked, sweating and irritated, back to the car, I had a little mother-son chat with my youngest.

Tucker, I said, you are driving me nuts.

And do you know what he said?
My baby, who has yet to say Mama, Dada, baby?

He said: YAY!

I am now very afraid of the rest of my life.

20131105-131537.jpg