Oh, that.

Faced my arch-nemesis yet again this morning. Apparently this family wants to eat EVERY day, and that requires continuous grocery shopping? WTF, reality?

It actually went quite well, all things considered. The only comment I have to make is this. Why, bagger guy? Why must you pack my bags so unevenly? The bag of (almost) all frozen food, I get. The separate bag for cleaning/beauty supplies, totally cool. Even the bag of all canned goods I kind of understand (though my shoulder is less forgiving). But why did you split these dry goods in this manner? Why stuff one bag full to the top and leave the other with only a bag of baby carrots, a can of pears, and a thing of chocolate syrup? This irritates me. I used to work at a store. I rang up and bagged groceries. I understand it can be difficult to prioritize and categorize when everything comes at you in no order. But this I do not understand. I would even understand if that tiny bag was the last one you packed and you were just like in the zone and all of a sudden "oh, that's everything?" but no. This bag was in the middle. You chose to stop at three items and place that bag down into my cart. WHY?!?!!?!?!?! I am just so befuddled by your decision, oh bagger boy.

Did you think the blue bag just wasn't up to the job?

Also today. First iced beverage purchase of the season at the 'bux. So stoked about that. Went running this morning for the first time in a month. Apparently when the weather is nice and nobody is impressed by my running 3 miles I lose all motivation. I'm like one of those annoying people who doesn't like a band anymore because they're "too popular". Running. Psh. It's nice out, everyone is running. I used to run when it was cold and nobody else even wanted to go outside. In other words, I'm SUPER lame.

Okay. So this morning went really well. All that stuff I said plus then the babies napped for 3 full hours and I did things like start this blog post. Then they woke up. And we had lunch. And then I got the bright idea to go to the playground before dinner.

It sounded like a good plan. Walk the 15 min to the playground, have a little fun, walk home in time to get dinner in the oven. Oh, yeah, that sounds great! And I'll bring the dog! Cause she'll like that! And it's so nice out!

AHGAROGROGRHOAGGJHGOAHRHGHGH.

First mistake- I decided not to drag the double jogger up from the basement, and instead put Violet in the umbrella stroller and let Fiona walk. Thank goodness she declined my offer of allowing her to bring either her doll stroller or her bike. Our 15-minute walk, while absolutely enjoyable, took us over an hour.

NO, Mama. Don' hulp. Imma push my sister Bi-let.

Second mistake- The dog. Oh, the dog. She's mostly good, but there are NINE JILLION RABBITS and oh the rabbits. This dog is crazy for them. Full on crazy-fit with yelping, she gets so worked up wanting to chase them that she pulls on the leash like a maniac....gah. Nearly knocked Fiona down once. But other than the rabbits...

Third mistake- Got a bit overconfident on the potty training issue. She's been doing so well! And even this morning, when we went grocery shopping, no accidents! Soooooooo yeah. You see where this is going. And not just wet. THANK GOODNESS I went to a new playgroup a couple weeks ago and met a woman that lives directly across the street from this playground, and has a son about the same size as Fiona, so I was able to go over and beg a diaper off her.

So there I stood, on the porch of a fairly new acquaintance. In one hand I held the end of the dog's leash as she pulled like CRAZY toward the three rabbits in the next yard. With the other hand I did my best to clean up my poor little soiled 2-year-old. Violet sat in the stroller, happily crunching away on an apple.

THIS is my life.

Sigh.

As we started back toward home, Fiona started begging to go play on the playground some more. I caved, since quite frankly, the thought of that hour-long walk home was not in the least bit appealing. I called Nate, who mercifully had already arrived home, and was able to drive the mile over to the playground to pick us up. My hero.

And tomorrow we get to wake up and do it all again.

Oh, and Violet pooped in the tub. Again. As usual.

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Awesome Thursday, continued.

Well kids, it's been less than a week since I've been here. I'm improving, see? Of course, what I really should be doing now is going to bed... but one thing at a time.

For now, I give you a few glimpes into last Thursday. After the previous blog post, the one I made on Thursday morning, my day just kept being awesome. Played with the baby, took a whole mess of photos, including the ones you're about to see. Because yes. This is primarily a photo entry. Like it.

After lunch, the child thoroughly inspected the dog's water dish. After she tipped it over the first time, I didn't even bother to refill it, and it's a good thing. Because this happened-

Then, she ate a coffee bean-

and got into all the pots and pans.

After that, I knew she could not be trusted while I cooked dinner in my new wok (!) so she was banished to the high chair, occupied with a tray full of cheerios, and I set to work making some chicken stir-fry for dinner. And taking pictures of the aforementioned dinner. I couldn't resist.

An empty, brand new wok, a semi-impulse purchase from Ikea.

And a baby that says "Why I no can help, momma? I iz a good cook!"

May I introduce my assistants, Mr. Rice Cooker and Ms. "Stir-fry sauce" Packet?

Check it out, Booden. And you think I can't cook to save my life.

They totally smelled what I was cooking.

And pup patiently waited at Nate's feet, willing him to drop something.

fin.

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Sick annnnd sick.

It's Wednesday. We've had a cold since Sunday. I'm so over having a cold. Unfortunately, I still have it.

Poor baby. She must think I've turned into some sort of brain-devouring alien, and I want to pull said brain out through her nose like the Egyptians did. Except instead of a hook, I use the dreaded NOSE SUCKY BULB.

NOOOOOO! Leave my brain alone!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!

Seriously, I think Nate can hear the screams from work.

Today we are GOING OUT! To the grocery store, if we can take the excitement. The amounts of mucus have prevented me from doing much of anything (up to and including getting dressed. I managed a t-shirt this morning, and that's it. We're not a naked house, we're more of a "pants and shirts optional" house. I mean it, too. I'm sitting in the living room and I can see no less than 3 pairs of abandoned pants. Of course, I fully intend to put on pants before I leave for the store. I'll even go super formal and put on SHOES!)

Where was I. Oh yes, grocery store. I need to buy some food because I've sent Nate to work with PB&J sandwiches for lunch for the last two days and I'm fairly certain that he is NOT actually seven years old. Plus, all the bread I have left is one end. And nobody wants that.

Made cookies the other night. I did not take a picture of the outcome, which is unfortunate. It was pretty funny. Ever tried to make cookies without adding flour? Doesn't actually work out all that well. In my defense, they were oatmeal cookies, and I did think it weird that there was no flour in the recipe, but then I figured that there was just enough oatmeal that it took flour's place. Which turned out not to be correct. As I discovered when I went to pull out the first batch of cookies and saw instead a tray covered in one massive gloppy glop of melty cookie dough. Sigh. And just when I thought my baking catastrophes were behind me. I was all Betty Crockery, baking cookies while Fiona watched me from the swing, thinking "Aw, isn't this nice, she'll grow up with great memories of me baking cookies and blah blah homemakery stuff" and I'm cleaning up as I go so there's no big mess when I'm finished, and everythings going great and the timer dings and I open the oven and..."shit." (Betty Crock of)

So, not so much.

Ah, well. I tried.

Good lord, mama. This pedicure is older than I am. Get your ass to a nail salon once in awhile.

The horrible pit bull obviously has plans to eat the baby. Also, looks like baby is already addicted to the internets.

Oh noes. Puppy will eat me?

It's okay, I get it. I AM deliciously adorable.

Aw, crap. I swore I wouldn't do the photo captions where the baby is talking. And now I have. Sorry. My deepest apologies. But I'm still not changin' em.

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