Speed blogging. It’s not unlike speed dating and it’s what I’m doing today. It’s something that I think every mommy blogger out there has done at least once. {If you’re a mommy blogger or a daddy blogger or a non-parenting blogger, please tell me you’ve done it.} It’s a post that’s quickly typed out when one realizes that it’s almost the end of the blogging week with only one post {and a giveaway at that!} published earlier in the week. And every professional blogger out there advises to post at least 3-4 times weekly to keep your audience entertained so I MUST GET OUT ANOTHER POST! I’m tap dancing for you people. I’ve got a sequined leotard, coat tails, a top hat, cane and everything!
Why the quiet blog lately? As you might already know, HH has been out of town for work over the last ~3 weeks and I’ve been held hostage by the kids. When the blog is quiet that usually means my house is pretty loud and chaotic. And when the blog is cruising with posts, well, my house is still pretty loud and chaotic. But missing that extra pair of adult hands has left me with no hands to type up posts. Which begs the question: at what age is it okay to start dictating blog posts to your baby? I hope you say seven months. Please say seven months.
Guess what. Mabrey just scored her first job. You go, babygirl.
I’ve also been plugging away at non-bloggy projects {mood boards, my writings elsewhere, planning ahead for some pretty amazing collaborations coming up – all of which I’m stoked about!} one of which included getting the mudroom – or at least a corner of it – in ship shape. See above.
Me to myself: Okay, so that’s one image and three paragraphs. Is that enough for a post? No. More tap dancing.
So, back to the kids. Because that’s where my mind is these days. I should probably throw in some random kid convo as well to keep things real. Yes, let’s do that.
Layne: Really, mom. Eggs? Eggs for breakfast? I don’t want eggs.
Everett: I have to pee.
Mabrey: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!
Layne was voted onto student council earlier in the school year. As a former student council president, I’m so proud of him. This week they are busy organizing a food drive for a local food pantry so we’ve been working on a poster and lines for a video they’re filming today that show other students what to do with the food they bring into school. He likes it when I say “Lights. Camera. Action!” before we practice then “…and scene” at the end. Seriously. I could totally go in and make that entire video myself knowing each kid’s lines and ROCK IT.
Layne: Ugh. I wanted the ketchup next to my eggs not on top of them.
Everett: I have to poop.
Mabrey: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!
Everett has been busy being Everett. That kid is strange. He scares me sometimes. He studies people and their mannerisms, gestures, clothing, accessories, etc. like he’s an actor prepping for a biographical film about that person. He takes it all in then chooses his role for the day and totally commits to it. This morning before preschool he was playing Grandpa. He couldn’t see without his glasses {a.k.a. bright blue sunglasses with puppy stickers on them – hey, he does what he can with his limited props} so had to wear them while he got dressed, ate breakfast and went to school. He is asking Santa for straps {known as ‘suspenders’ to the rest of the world}, black dress pants {just because they have the word ‘dress’ in them doesn’t mean they’re for girls. Let’s make that perfectly clear.}, a tie and golfer’s cap to play Uncle Ray next.
Layne: Hey, those eggs weren’t that bad. Can I have some more?
Everett: Mabrey pooped.
Mabrey: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!
All of a sudden Mabrey has decided to take a bottle. I pretty much follow her lead on everything. It’s easier that way. So when she decided earlier this week that bottles were her preferred method of calorie intake versus nursing, I went with it. I haven’t nursed or pumped for two days so I think we’re done. Just like that. I’m sad and happy at the same time. I think I’m feeling the effects of the hormone changes that go along with weaning. Hormone changes + single parenting = cray cray mommy. While HH has been away, Mabrey has learned to sit on her own, clap, hold her bottle and feed herself solid foods. Oh, and type. HH won’t know what to think when he sees her again!
Layne: You know my lunch you made me yesterday? It was good but can you not give me so many carrots next time. The thing is I love carrots but I want to eat them all and they just don’t give me enough time at school to eat that many.
Everett: Can I see Mabrey’s poop?
Mabrey: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!
HH comes home tomorrow. It’s also our 10th wedding anniversary. I’m giving him the gift of daddy time. Quality one-on-three time with the kids. It’s all he’s ever wanted. And more.
…and scene.
FYI – Mabrey didn’t type this post. Really. Do you think a baby could spell ‘accessories’? C’mon. Even I have to look at that one twice. Two c’s? One c? Two s’s? One s? Two r’s? One r? So. Many. Consonants.
image: Dana Miller for House*Tweaking
family life, kid-friendly