So, Brookelyn asked me if I clean my armpits.
B: You clean under there or what?
Me (outstretched on the couch): Um, yes....
B: Well, it doesn't look like it
Me: Well, I do
B: Well, it doesn't look like it
And she walks off.
Excuse me? She witnesses my 1st of two showers each day. She must be confusing my deodorant residue with filth.
She is 13 years old already and I've only had her out of diapers for a year and a half. I have to remind her to take her hand off of her hip when she is speaking to me. "Do you know who I am?! I am your mother! You know-- that lady that cleans up your barf when you are sick and wipes your butt when you don't feel like it b/c you say its yucky! Really? Yucky? Then how do you think I feel about it, its YOUR hiney. I'm the lady that caves in at the Hello Kitty stand every time we go to the mall, and gets you a cookie of your choice your highness!"
I am starting to conclude I am here for my children's amusement. They ban together, "hey watch this, watch how her head pops right off her shoulders when I lay tiny, sharp blocks in her path, so that when she runs down the stairs like cattle, she'll trip. It will be a riot"
Only-- I'm on to them so I turn in to Hitler Mom and everyone panics. Michael says chill out after he has been gone for 8 hours golfing as I go on 78 consecutive 24 hour days with our two lovely cubs. Easy for him to say "chill out" as if that were easy. If "chill out" comes in a bottle then I'm game, otherwise, shut the freak up.
If you ever start to see a tiny mustache forming above my upper lip, you've been warned, and you should run-
Other breaking news- Ash has her last 4 teeth trying to come in and she couldn't be more pissed off about it. Her drool soaks everything and she has screamed and cried so much this week that she has lost her voice and is extremely hoarse. She sounds hysterical. I'm glad to have something to laugh at as she has had me walking the halls w/ her at midnight and caving in and bringing her to bed w/ us so that I can sleep. Newborn days all over again! Shes also been constipated, gasy (yes apparently you can be both at the same time and it only took me 48 hours to figure out), and has a cough/cold.
It has been a brawl trying to get anything accomplished this week. We went to World Market today looking for Fathers day gifts inspiration. Miss B was pushing my buttons and I just kept holding up my fingers (not THAT one) indicating how many spankings she'd get back at the car. Every time she ticked me off and I felt a piece of my sanity leave my soul, then I'd hold up another finger. We got up to "4" which I really wanted to do IN the store. A spanking this day usually means a smack on the hand or back of her thigh. I HATE SPANKING and Michael disagrees with it all together. I use my powers wisely. To make a long story, probably longer-- I got out to the parking lot and she had been kissing up to me for about 5 min and I told her I didn't want to spank her in 100 degree heat w/ her sister on my hip and 3 bags hanging from my arms and a cart to world market that I had to leave in front of Petsmart. So, I negotiated with her, if she'd be quiet on the car ride home and do no fussing about going to rest time in her room then I'd waive the 4 spankings. She was fine the rest of the day. I think this heat does not bring out the good anyone, unless we are swimming. Plus, note to the world- I suffer from pms and not just traditional pms, like my dr diagnosis me everything with the dysmenorra or whatever its called which is basically "all symptoms of pms- candice has". Unfortunately, I take everyone down with me. If I have to be bloated, depressed, agitated, irritable and in pain, then all my people are tragically and inevitably going to suffer too.
So, tomorrow is Father's Day.....Happy Father's Day to Michael who does make sacrifices and is probably more driven in his life to excel due to have two little girls. Watching him hug and kiss on them gives me warmth in my heart. He has grown so much from his first fathers day to now his 5th father's day! Love to Michael aka Daddy.
