Every Friday the Today Show and the Huffington Post publish lists of the funniest parents on social media, and I was super-excited to make it on both round-ups last week!
If you like Facebook, check me and the other parents out on Today's Funniest Parents on Facebook (I like #2.)
If you like Twitter, check out Huffington Post's Funniest Parents on Twitter (my favorite is #1.)
And if you're a member of my immediate family, keep complaining about dinner and forgetting to flush the toilet. It provides me with a lot of source material.
P.S: You can visit me anytime on Facebook by clicking here or on Twitter by clicking here. I'll try to make it worth your while.
Phillip and I have a long-standing Friday night ritual where right before bed, we check the calendar and spend 5-10 minutes wailing about how early we have to get up in the morning for soccer or basketball or whatever else.
I still can't hardly believe this, but last Friday we looked at the calendar and saw a big blank square. An entire Saturday with nothing. No sports. No lessons. No playdates or birthday parties or church cleaning.
I was so excited about the prospect of sleeping in that I had trouble going to sleep that night. Brains are dumb.
Since I'm in the process of doing some major de-junking at home, it's time to tackle this eyesore:
|Master bathroom window. Yes, we actually live like this.|
Historically, the master bedroom and bathroom were cluttered, neglected casualties of busy big family life. And I was okay with that.
So I didn't feel the urge to replace the cheapo horizontal blinds I like to call 'the landlord special.' And when the kids tore down the one on the right I was fine with hanging a brown blanket in its place and going on with business as usual.
But now that it's clean and organized in there, I'm actually motivated to make the place look nice. First step, I ordered some lovely wood blinds to put in the windows.
Which I'll do as soon as I figure out how to get the boxes open without a sharp instrument.
We decided to go out for pizza the other night with my dad and stepmom, who are visiting. We almost accidentally left one kid behind in the chaos of 10 people piling into two separate cars, but did a last-minute head count and realized the mistake before we left the driveway.
My 12-year-old pointed out it was almost like that movie Home Alone, but in my defense we were only going to a pizza place 6 minutes away instead of France. I'd like to think if we were leaving the country I'd be a little more fastidious about making sure we had everybody.
I've said before that I can't wait to be a grandparent, because it's all the fun and none of the unpleasant stuff.
The other night the kids were in the other room playing with their grandparents; I was cooking and noticed a funky smell emanating from the baby's general direction.
"Does anybody want to change a poopy diaper??" I called hopefully.
After a few moments of awkward silence, my dad's voice drifted from the other room: " ¡No hablo inglés!"
Figures. One dirty diaper, and suddenly nobody speaks English anymore.
Phillip and I haven't been on a proper date in a while, so we jumped at the chance to leave the kids with their grandparents for a few hours and go out for overpriced seafood. And then to another restaurant for cheesecake.
At both places, Phillip could not stop looking at the ceilings and telling me about them. You see, his new job designs building materials, and the project he's working on right now specifically involves ceiling tiles.
His eyes kept wandering up during the evening, and I think I had to snap my fingers at least once to get his attention back to eye level.
This was never a problem when he was at his old job, where he engineered lasers. None of those at the Cheesecake Factory to distract him.
Another night, I was making dinner when my 10-year-old walked by and asked what we were having.
"Soup," I answered.
"Like actual soup or gross mush?"
After some follow-up questions, I learned that 'gross mush' isn't meant to be a pejorative word, it's just another term for 'stew.' And apparently someone around here isn't a fan.