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Blinding Brilliance

I used to be really smart. Seriously, I was valedictorian of my high school class and I had like a 3.8 something in college.

Today I made coffee.  Or rather, I tried to.  The first two times, I put water in the pot but NO COFFEE GROUNDS.

Yes, the first two times.

The third time, I succeeded.

Later in the evening, I had occasion to make more coffee.

I did it again.

THREE TIMES IN ONE DAY. I forgot to put the coffee grounds in THREE TIMES and brewed a pot of hot water THREE TIMES.

I used to be smart.  Then I had three babies and lost 1/3 of my brain with each one, and to be honest with you, sometimes I am amazed I can even put together a sentence.

I miss the old me.  I aim for coffee in most of my pursuits but I seem to come out with hot water much of the time.

And usually burn my tongue on it.

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This Just In: I’m Still 12

As I posted Friday, I had to take Joshua to the pediatrician because of a mysterious stomach ailment.  The pediatrician asked about a million questions and then said he needed more information, so he asked me to keep a poop and food diary on Joshua for two weeks.

That’s right, for the next two weeks, I have to look at Joshua’s poop and write down my observations about it’s size, color, consistency, etc.

I love being a mom.  Really, this is the stuff I’ve always dreamed about.

But back to the asking a million questions part.  The doctor asked Joshua many, many questions that ended in the word, “poop”.

Does it hurt when you poop?

When you’re eating, do you feel like you have to poop?

Is there any blood on the toilet paper when you poop?

PoopPoopPoopPoopPoopPoopPoop?

Seriously, after the first question, it was all I could do to not burst out in an ugly, raspberry-esque hysterical laughter.  I had to bite the inside of my mouth and stare down at the top of my son’s head to keep from losing control.

Because there’s something about a learn-ed M.D. saying the word “poop” over and over that brings me to the basest level of immaturity possible.

I couldn’t breathe for a full 30 seconds after he’d said his last “poop” for fear of losing it.  And, since I’ve made a fool of myself in front of this doctor over bowel movements before, I really did not want to lose control.

But I was thisclose.

So, I think my much more solemn and mature husband should attend the follow-up appointment, don’t you?  Because since it is going to involve careful examination of aforementioned poop diary, I don’t think I can be trusted to hold it together.

What makes you giggle like a pre-adolescent boy?

(P.S. – POOP!!!! Made ya laugh!)


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Death by FUN

Remember my FUN ROOM?  Well, it is still fun.  For the kids anyway.  But you see, when we (and by “we” I mean, “My husband”) painted the door in the FUN ROOM with dry-erase paint, we *ahem* forgot to specify to our four-year-old that the door frame was not dry-erase.

Oopsieeeeee.

So, Sunday I spent a great deal of time scrubbing dry-erase marker off the door frame.  First with dry-erase marker remover (ineffectual) and then with hairspray (slightly less ineffectual) and THEN I went to Rite Aid an spend some +UP Rewards on the best invention EVER, the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.  And I scrubbed that dry-erase marker right off that door frame.  I am now a firm believer in good ol’ Mr. Clean.   But it took a LOT of “elbow grease” to get all that marker off the wall.

And my back, neck, and shoulders hurt like a MOTHER.  I do not know what I did with that scrubbing, but I messed myself UP.  Four days later, and it’s just getting worse.  I’ve been sleeping with pain patches on my neck and back at night, and have to take some good old “PM” drugs just to get to sleep it hurts so bad.

As I sit here this morning, it’s not feeling any better. I think I’m broken.

Which is why, I’m going to be like Mrs. Duggar, and just get myself totally made over with robotic parts.  Because clearly, that is the only way all that Duggar business is possible!   I may start rusting after awhile but at least I won’t feel the pain!

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