Having Kids is Hilarious

After school today, Nora asked me to draw her a Santa hat so she could cut it out and write a letter to Santa on it. I fully expected her to ask for something for Christmas in this letter, but, no. It was a prep-letter for when she plans to see him in person this Sunday. Check it out. (She had actually tried to write the letter herself, but she wanted me to translate it for her over the top of what she wrote.)


"I love you, Santa, but please don't 'Ho Ho' in my face. Thanks, Nora."

I'm pretty sure she did this because we watched A Christmas Story last night. She seemed a bit taken aback that a kid would actually freak out in Santa's lap. So, to prevent that sort of incident for herself, she's taking precautions.

I'm pretty sure she's Willi's daughter. I am pretty sure I've never thought that far ahead, like, ever.

Terrible and Beautiful

Last night, I took the new computer back that we had bought over the weekend (there was an, um, issue with Best Buy that got resolved—another story). Nora had gone to be with a friend, so I had just Henry and Everett with me. Everett was a 15-month-old disaster at Best Buy, which is pretty standard. (I have a four-year-old, and I can say, with confidence, that the hardest age is just walking until fully talking.)

The whole time we were at Best Buy (it took forever, which was unexpected, but not surprising), Henry kept reminding me that I had said that we could go to "Benard's."

I told him that we have to wait until we're all done, and if he wasn't going to listen to me, we couldn't go. So, he did his best. He just laid down on the floor of Best Buy. At this point in my motherhood, I just let that happen. I probably got judged, but people can go fly a kite.

We left Best Buy, Henry reminded me about "Benard's," and I decided that he had behaved well enough to go (and I could strap Ev into a cart this time). The thing about "Benard's" is that they have ONE cart that is kid-friendly. It has a car on the front, and Henry asks me every day at least 86 times if we can go to "Benard's that has the yellow car."

I'm not even kidding about that.

So, we got to "Benard's," and we spotted the cart. As I herded my two boys into the store, two, slightly older boys darted into the store and headed straight for the cart. Henry went running after them saying, "Nooo!"

My heart sank . . . before Henry even said anything. I watched (almost outside myself) as I heard these little boys basically tell him "tough."

Henry had the hugest tears, and his cries were so full of anguish. He just doesn't get out much, darn it.

Anyway, what could I do? I just started to try to comfort him, and I said, "Sorry, buddy. We just missed it. Darn it."

Oh, it was painful. I about cried, too, honestly.

Luckily, over his cries, I barely heard the mother of the boys yelling, "You know what, guys? You need to let those little boys ride that car."

She actually walked over there and made them get off. I think she hated doing it, and I felt bad that she felt she had to do it (and, yet, that's honestly what I would have done had I been her). I couldn't help but to be pissed off at "Benard's" for only ever having ONE of those STUPID CARTS at EVERY "Benard's" STORE.

I told her "thank you," but it might have been lost on her. I made Henry say "thank you" to the boys. Believe it or not, the boys actually seemed to be OK with parting with the car once he said that.

It was terrible and beautiful all at once. Life is hard. You know it? Jeez.

Henry's Upsided

Just in the last few weeks, Henry has really started to connect some synapses in his brain or something. He makes so much more sense all of a sudden, and I've found that I'm not spending most of my mornings ripping my hair out with him. It's a welcomed change. He's starting to understand quite a bit, and he's actually starting to be really sweet and helpful.

One of the things that he says lately that I do not want to forget: when he gets excited about something (like when we say we're going to go out to eat at "the car place"), he always gasps, opens his eyes wide, and says, "I be so upsided!"

It makes me laugh every single time.

She's Smarter Than I Am

This morning, I managed to somehow overfill my coffee cup. I use my cup (which is a cup with a lid because I spill a lot) to fill up the coffee maker to prevent this from happening, but for some reason, there was actually more coffee in the end than what was in my cup. I was so confused. It was so full, in fact, that I couldn't put the lid on it. So, I fumbled around with it to the table, and I ended up spilling some on myself and the table. Nora looked at me and said, "Mom! Why don't you just pour some out?"

Why the crap didn't I think of that!?

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I haven't had a Tuesday worthy of a good rant in awhile, but today, there just happened to be enough material for it. Amber and Sara did it first. I copied. Truth. 

Hey, It's Okay . . .

To believe that God gave me the blessing of closing on the house in La Porte yesterday just so that I could handle the slapfest that would happen to me today.

To look forward to the day when I can have a second to look forward to things. I am doing way too much "flying by the seat of my pants" lately. That house closing was supposed to help, but I guess it's still been less than 24 hours since that happened.

To be glad that my baby can't quite talk yet for fear that he might repeat some of the words that I've uttered (somewhat loudly) under my breath (or not) today.

To not really be able to focus on positive part of the fact that the floor in the basement might be a little cleaner now that I had to mop it. By all the gross, gross drains.

To think about not including the part where I stepped on a toy, fell, and dumped my mop bucket on a large area of the basement (and on carpet, stuffed animals, toys, and linoleum) because it's just so, so stupid. Aaaand, my foot still hurts.

To be really looking forward to work slowing down (even a little would be lovely) after this week. (Seriously. I had a severe deadline today AND my sump pump decided not to work this morning.)

To want to drop everything to make an awesome penguin backpack for Nora for school . . . but there's no way that I'll have time to do it.

To look forward to the day when Henry stops saying, "Hey, Mom," before EVERYTHING that he says—even if he has just said it in the prior sentence and still holds my attention.

To not mention at least one of the things that happened today that is rant-worthy because it's just too gross. That one will just be for Willis. Just know that something else gross and rant-worthy happened. Okay? It actually wasn't poo-related, believe it or not. (That one was two weeks ago.)

To actually prefer the poo-related grossness incident(s) that happened all in one day to all the things that were happening today.

To think that every single mole and freckle (and we all have a million of them) is a tick . . . with lyme disease.

House Update

"After putting our first home on the market February 1st, we entered into a purchase agreement on March 16th. Five months later, we finally closed that life chapter."

That's the direct quote from my "life event" on Facebook that happened yesterday, August 20th. We finally sold the house!

Two Homes . . . Still

We got a call from our realtor over the weekend telling us that everything was finally cleared on our buyer's end, and we were most likely going to be closing this week—maybe even on Monday! While I was thrilled to hear that bit of news, my very practiced skepticism crept in, and out of my mouth came, "Yeaaah. I'll believe that when I see it."

Last night, we got another call from our realtor (notice it's beyond Monday, Tuesday, and even Wednesday at that point). It turns out: FHA loans take 60 days to close once everything is cleared. So, our buyer is now seeking out standard financing at this point.

Why this couldn't happen, oh, like, three months ago, I do not know. And, how did nobody know about the 60 days?

Obnoxious. Really.