Hey Dad, This One's For You

I keep this blog mostly for my family.  My dad has been the most avid reader, checking in every so often and sending me e-mails asking me to update.  I love that.  Since he doesn't have Facebook, he misses most of my updates.

Well Ah-eeeeeeee, here you go!  Revel in the payback your grandkids are inflicting on your all-too-deserving daughter:

I have been so bad about keeping the kids active in shared domestic duties, but today has seen a bit of a renewal. Joseph was re-schooled in making his own breakfast (egg whites and bacon) and making a pot of coffee. He also picked up the living room, *without* being asked, and unloaded clean dishes from the dishwasher before reloading it and starting it. Thomas took out the trash in spite of his runny nose and earache. Maria... Sigh... Maria made ponies out of pink playdoh and cried about a broken crayon.

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 I just spent the last six minutes exchanging nothing but laughter with the baby. He is now set to have me cater to his every whim until I die.

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I took the kids shopping this morning (yeah, you know it's going to be a doozy when it starts out like that). There were also nuns in habits and Muslim women in hijabs shopping. What did my oh-so-culturally-sensitive children do every time they saw either? Shout, "GHOST!!!" and jump into a rack of clothes. Uuuuuugggggghhhhhhhh...

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Joseph came up to me with his arms tucked into the torso of his shirt:
Joseph- "Mommy, my arms are missing!"
Me- "Well, let's get you to the hospital so the doctor can sew lizard arms on you."
Joseph- "Oh my goodness, is that what you'd say if I lost my arms for real?!"
Me- "Why not? Lizard arms would be cool! I'd ask for some while we were there because I'd be jealous of yours."
Joseph- "Does that make you the best mom ever, or the worst?"
Me- "Anybody's guess, sweetheart."

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I was logging my physical activity on my fitness app and I didn't see "wrestled my toddler into his Sunday clothes." Six minutes of that was like an hour of cardio, so I logged that instead, but they'll be hearing from me.

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The boys have noticed that their room is cleaner. They haven't noticed that it's because ALL of their toys have all been evacuated to "the staging area" (under my bed) for donation. Maria noticed. She's been quietly cleaning her room ever since.

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Thomas: "Mommy, my autism is telling me that I only want pizza."
Me: "Is your autism in charge, or are you in charge?"
Thomas: "... Pizza is in charge."
Oh, this kid!

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Please pray for my mother's safe travels today. Please also pray for my poor, poor children who have to endure the horror of cleaning their rooms in anticipation of her arrival. Nobody seems to understand the hardship of cleaning up after one's self in preparation for a week of unrestrained spoiling from one's grandparent...

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Louis curled up around my belly and said, "Hey baby John! Get out of there and play! I'll punch you in the face and then we'll eat ice cream!"
Brotherly love summed up in two sentences.

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I just yawned loudly, to which Louis lovingly exclaimed, "Mommy, you a cow! Mooooooooooooooooo!"
Oh, that will do wonders for my gigantically pregnant, fragile ego.

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Joseph, on cleaning his room: "I don't want to work hard! I want to work easy! And I hate being patient! And I don't want to give up anything for Lent!"

That escalated quickly...

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Maria just lost another tooth. As she rinsed her mouth at the sink...
Maria: "I HATE losing teeth!"
Me: "Would you like it better if we pretended that the tooth fairy was real?"
Maria: "Strangers breaking into the house and coming into my room would only make it worse!!!"

When you put it like that, it's a completely solid reason.

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While some kids play superheroes or tag or hide and seek, my kids play "Louis is a bacteria and we are all white blood cells who have a job to do!!!!!" As I sit at my dining table, they are chasing each other down and tackling each other, narrating whether the white blood cells or the bacteria are the victors of the encounter. Bunch of nerds.

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Maria: "Mommy, is Daddy awake, or did he go to work today?"

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Louis comes into my room with a Santa hat on and plops on my bed...
Louis: "I'm Santa. What do you want for Christmas?"
Me: "Louis, we don't believe in Santa."
Louis: "That's because Maria was Santa. That's dumb. I'm Santa now. I'm a great Santa. What do you want for Christmas?"

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