When I was a couple months pregnant with Madden I came across this image and thought it was funny in a cutesy sort of way, but I never imagined just how true it would ring. And holy hell let me tell you, #TRUTH.
And this little twerp proved it last weekend, in the course of a single day. In one day — ONE DAY — he drew all over himself with pen (yes, that’s a hot pink arm cuff that he’s ROCKING…#thembasicbitchescannotcompete), ate a dirt flavored popsicle (literally), smeared more jam all over his face than he got in his tummy, painted himself in yogurt (though it wasn’t as cute as the very first time, and it definitely wasn’t as bad as the time Emma fed herself yogurt for the first time ever), and (two days before all the rest of these incidents) decided to go fishing for shit in the back of his diaper. Like, literally. Fishing. FOR SHIT. #elbowsdeep
Such a disgusting, dirty little dude. But I wouldn’t trade his stinky, messy, loud little butt for anything. Except for maybe a week without kids. Or free daycare. I’d trade all of my kids AND a couple of my organs for either of those things. NO BULLSHIT.
Last Wednesday night we were buried beneath a foot of snow. A foot of snow isn’t very much to a lot of people, I know. But a foot of snow here is an impetus for total chaos. Needless to say, Thursday was a snow day. The government closed, daycare closed, even fucking Dominos was closed. WHAT THE HELL?!
RJ still had to work, though, so it was just the kids and me All. Day. Long. Maybe that sounds like fun to you, but I guarantee you it wasn’t fun. Snow days aren’t exactly fun when you’re a parent and 1) hate the cold but also 2) hate being cooped up inside and 3) have a shit ton of super time-intensive homework to do. But it’s the hand we were dealt so it’s the hand we played. For like, 15 minutes.
While the kids hung around on the couch watching cartoons and eating waffles, I ran around the house trying to find shit for them to wear in the snow. The only reason Emma had anything remotely snow-appropriate to wear was because mi amiga Heather dropped off piles and piles of hand-me-downs a few months ago, which happened to contain snow boots, snow pants, and a rain coat. So, you know, THANKS, HEATHER! Madden, on the other hand, was SOL. I had to double up his socks, his pants, and triple up his shirts and even then he definitely didn’t stay dry.
Neither one of the kids had any idea what was going on or how to play in the snow, which was a little embarrassing but also relieving because I wasn’t trying to spend all day out there in the freezing fucking cold. Emma was more concerned with cleaning the snow off the car than she was with playing in or with it, and Madden mostly just stood around looking perplexed or smacking the snow with his cutie little mittened hands. I snapped a few photos, called it good, and bribed the kids back inside with promises of Barney and treats. Thank god they both were totally fine with coming in and playing inside for the rest of the day because I have exactly zero amount of time to dedicate to the fucking cold. I really need to move to the beach.
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