This morning, we attempted to go to a teddy bear hunt. There was a problem. It's name was wind. I have somehow gone almost 5 years without realizing my children were apparently rendered useless, terrified, and completely unable to form any coherent train of thought by this wonder of nature. I mean, seriously. This is what went down.
Wind: Whhhhooooooshhhhhhh......
My spawn: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wind: Swissssssshhhhhh
The fruit of my loins: SOMETHING IS TRYING TO KILLLLLLLLL MEEEEEEEE!!!! I MUST SCREAM UNCONTROLLABLY UNTIL EVERYONE LOOKS AT MY MOTHER LIKE SHE IS TRYING TO TEAR MY TEETH OUT OF MY MOUTH!!!!!!!!!! SOMEONE HELLLLLLLP ME!!!!
Wind: Blooooowwwwww
My sweet sweet babies: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEONE SAVE US NOWWWWWW!!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE! LET US SCREAM UNTIL OUR EYES WATER, OUR EARS RING, AND OUR MOTHER COLLAPSES INTO A QUIVERING HEAP UPON THE GROUND!! IT IS THE APOCALYPSE!!!! THE END OF THE WORLD!!!! THE WIND IS RIPPING OUR VERY SOULS FROM OUR BEINGS!!!! LET US SCREEEEEEAAAAMMMM!!! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, LET US COERCE EVERYONE IN A 20 MILE RADIUS TO SCREAM IN UNISON WITH US!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm being a good mom to difficult children. That's my special project.
These are my darlings. Pictures taken .3.5 seconds before the glass-shattering shrieking occured.
After the ringing from our ears subsided, one of my very dearest friends and I looked at each other, and in that awesome, we-know-each-other-so-well-way, decided mutely it was time to make a break for it and head to the nearest bar. And so we did. This is how we wiled away our Sunday afternoon.
Break.
My turn for the online poker, dammit.
In other news, I am trying to potty train Nora. Is it going well? Why, no. But thanks for asking.
I have realized this. Going potty in the potty is only one small portion of potty training. There are 50 other steps conveniently skipped over in the parenting books. There's the "transition from little potty to big potty" step. The "yes, you must flush every time you go potty" step. The "weaning from potty-rewards" step (otherwise known as "no, grown-ups don't get M&Ms for pooping" step). The "privacy without locking yourself in, and thus Mommy out, of the bathroom" step. The "not everyone wants to see your new Dora The Explorer underwear" step. The "not discussing what Mommy is doing in the potty in a public bathroom" step.
Yeah. It's not as easy as you'd think.
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It's nice to let it all out.