Yup

Someone else wrote this, but it pretty much sums up my life:


I Wanna Muffin

If you give a mom a muffin, she'll want a cup of coffee to go with it. She'll pour herself some. Her three-year-old will spill the coffee.  She'll wipe it up. Wiping the floor, she will find dirty socks. She'll remember she has to do laundry. When she puts the laundry in the  washer, she'll trip over boots and bump into the freezer. Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan supper. She will get out a pound of hamburger. She'll look for her cookbook. (101 Things To Make With A Pound Of Hamburger.) The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail. She will see the phone bill, which is due tomorrow. She will look for her checkbook. The checkbook is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two-year-old. She'll smell something funny. She'll change the two-year-old. While she is changing the two-year-old the phone will ring. Her five-year-old will answer and hang up. She'll remember that she wants to phone a friend to come for coffee. Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup. She will pour herself some. And chances are, if she has a cup of coffee, her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.

by Kathy Fictorie
based on "If you Give a Mouse a Cookie by Laura Numeroff

Twizzlers and Sthneeds

This just happened. 

Tryn walks up to me and sticks out her foot: Mom, I need the twizzlers. I have this thing in my foot.

I examine and go get said twizzlers (i.e. tweezers).

After trying for a minute or two with no success I pull out a needle.

Tryn, grabs her foot,: Oh, it doesn't hurt anymore.

Me: Just give me your foot.

Tryn: No, mommy, NO!

Absolutely refuses to give me her foot.

Me: Trynie, give me your foot.

Tryn, not kidding, reaching hysterics: No, NO, NO, NO, it's gonna hurt!!

This goes back and forth a few times. I am starting to realize that she is maybe truly terrified of the needle. 

Me: Tryn, I am not going to hurt you! It hurts you to have the sliver in right now, doesn't it?

Tryn: Are you gonna use that? The sthneed?

Me: WHAT?!

Tryn, pointing to the needle: That. The sthneed.

Instead of going for the obvious "WHAT?!" again I tried: Who told you it was called that?

Tryn, still with tears streaming down her face: You did, Mommy.

I refrain from sounding like a total moron by not saying "WHAT?!" again. Instead I start giggling really hard. I honestly have no idea where she heard that, but it sounds like a Dr. Seuss word or something.

Me: I really told you that? Are you sure you didn't have a dream about something like that?

Tryn: No, you told me.

And yes, the sliver is still there as we could not get it out with the twizzlers and really needed to avoid the hysterics of using the sthneed.