We went to a family day and open house at Phillip's workplace. I thought it was great, but I'm beginning to believe our 2-year-old just doesn't like open houses of any kind.
The first warning sign was at the front door when he flat-out refused to wear the visitor name tag. Wanted nothing to do with it. Somehow he even knew when we stuck it on the back of his jacket.
And then we toured the materials testing labs, where the rule is that everyone has to wear safety glasses. No exceptions. Even if you're two and are acting like the safety glasses are physically harming you just by existing in your presence.
When we crossed paths with other people touring the lab, I tried my best to give them a friendly smile that said, "Please don't call the police; we're not abducting this child, we're just trying to make him keep his safety glasses on. Thanks!"
I decided to swing by the Walmart near Phillip's work on my way home to pick up a few things.
I had a list of 6 things I needed for the kids' Halloween costumes, and I was in there for an hour and a half. I don't even know that happened. I'm pretty sure that place is a wormhole in the fabric of time.
As I was checking out at Walmart I saw a teenager near the registers wearing a shirt that said "110% ALL THE TIME."
It made me laugh because what he happened to be doing at that particular moment was zoning out on a bench eating a carton of Whoppers while he waited for his mom to finish paying for her stuff.
Maybe it would've been more appropriate for the shirts to say "110% most of the time"?
I received notification that the kids' schools are doing scoliosis checks and started having flashbacks.
That's because the only thing I remember from elementary school is learning what a peninsula is and doing scoliosis checks. That may have been all we did from kindergarten through 6th grade. It didn't even matter that none of us knew what scoliosis was, we all lived in mortal fear of it anyway.
Another thing I thought would be more of a problem in the real world than it actually is: quicksand. A lot of my childhood was spent discussing how to escape a pit full of quicksand. I'm almost disappointed that as an adult I've never encountered it, not even once.
You may have seen me in a few other places on the Interwebs this week. (Just humor me by nodding and smiling, okay?)
Because it's Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, I was interviewed along with four other parents for a piece called "Here's What It's Really Like to Have a Miscarriage" at Huffington Post Parents. Read with tissues in hand; you've been warned.
On a lighter note, my post "Thoughts After the First Baby vs. the Fourth Baby (and Beyond)" was syndicated at Scary Mommy under the title "How I'm Parenting My Last Baby Differently Now That I Have a Seriously Large Family."
It wasn't until after publication that I realized my Scary Mommy bio still says I have 5 children and I never updated it to include my sixth. This was so hilariously appropriate to the general gist of the article I've decided to just leave it for now.
Sorry, children who come later in the birthing order. It doesn't mean we don't love you; it just means we don't have many functioning brain cells left.
One of the hallmarks of the elementary school mom is a windowsill full of plants in Dixie cups with their kids' names written on them in Sharpie. And maybe this plays out differently in other houses, but in ours these plants are always in varying stages of death.
|Sent home by the school to be euthanized.|
This is Corny, my 5th grader's corn plant.
Why the school would send home corn in October is beyond me. I'm obviously not going to be able to keep this thing alive through the winter, and even if I did, don't cornstalks get to be about 8 feet tall? This is just setting me up for failure. At least it's not a 30-foot tree (which we also killed immediately.)
Next to Corny is my 3rd grader's bean plant, which is actually still green but that doesn't mean anything. I can work miracles, as long as that miracle is killing a perfectly healthy plant and disappointing my 8-year-old who's looking forward to a bountiful bean harvest.
At the risk of having this blog turn into nothing more than a logbook of strange things I've found in the bathroom, I wanted to see what you thought of this:
|Modern art installation, 2016. Artist unknown.|
I like how the mystery sculptor combined two pet peeves of mine: when someone treats the empty roll of toilet paper like a shelf and just sets the new one on top, and when the kids leave their toothbrushes all over the house. It's so creative!
After finding a bicycle helmet in the bathroom two weeks ago, I got a few comments that I needed to write a post on weird stuff I've found in the bathroom. Apparently I really do.