Exhibit A: When I sat down at the dollhouse, I noticed that there was a laundry basket full of miscellaneous crap hidden in the oven.
While I don't think I've ever used my oven as a place to toss my mess when people come over, it's actually not a bad idea.
Exhibit B: She was the mom doll, and I was the two kids. The mom was going to make breakfast, so the hungry kids naturally started jumping up and down chanting "Waffles! Waffles! Waffles!"
My preschooler's doll was not impressed and told my dolls, "You guys are being annoying. I'm going back to bed."
I didn't have the heart to tell her that that doesn't work in real life.
Sometimes I think we're coming along pretty well as a society, and then I'm looking up a song on YouTube and it shows me the ad "Patrick vs. Girlfriend's Laundry."
I was so shocked that Downy didn't, like, run this one past a focus group or anything. I looked it up on YouTube and the comments at least partially restored my faith in humanity:
|I hate it when that happens!|
|Alternate titles were "So Your Husband's Too Dumb To Work the Washing Machine" and "Patrick, Your Girlfriend Thinks You're a Doofus."|
Getting up at 6 every morning to get the kids up and off to school this week has been... difficult.
Basically I've been waking up the kids and then lying semi-conscious on the couch while they get ready. Shockingly, no one's missed the bus yet (except for one time when I overslept, but that doesn't count.)
Who am I kidding, I spend 65% of my waking hours these days lying comatose on the couch. Unless I'm napping. Seriously, the exhaustion with this pregnancy is unreal.
And let me tell you, coming up with 7 quick takes that didn't involve sleeping or dry heaving took some real effort this week. I briefly thought about just listing all the stuff the baby broke while I was drooling on the sofa in a catatonic stupor, but that would just be depressing.
You know what we had for dinner on Wednesday night? Scrambled eggs and frozen French fries. And I didn't even make the scrambled eggs. I laid there until Phillip got home and made them.
I did make the fries though. Well, I preheated the oven. I asked my 11-year-old to do the rest.
And do you know what? I still felt like I deserved an Olympic medal.
On the upside, the 1-year-old has been enjoying his new-found freedom while I've been laid up, and he's discovered a real passion for computer programming.
I'm not sure how, but yesterday he changed the background on the computer and created 16 new folders on the desktop including one named 'FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.'
|Yes, he's using the mouse. With the wrong hand, but give him a break - he's a year old.|
I have no idea how to change the desktop back. I knew that someday my kids would know more about technology than me, but I didn't think it would happen so soon.
So we went in for some baby pictures yesterday and the results are just as I expected: I'm 9 weeks.
In the meantime, the preschooler is excitedly telling everyone "We're going to have TWO babies!" and they assume we're expecting twins, not realizing that she's counting her 1-year-old brother as the other baby. I have a feeling I may need to correct some people down the line.