I've certainly been lacking in the blog area of life, because diddlydoo is going on. Actually, that's not entirely true, but try as I might, I just can't get around to posting an entire entry about how I burned my face making bacon (what a way to go) or how interesting it is teaching a seven year old how to spell the word "doughnuts".
Aside from those things, my days consist of speaking in a secret language to my baby. If you live under our roof, terms like "shadooby", "shadinky", "Rootus" and "Boof" all have their own specific definition. I also serenade the cat with impromptu songs like "Fatzilla Catzilla" and "Let Me Brush You, You'll Look Ten Pounds Lighter". Needless to say, by the time Chris gets home from work, I am near delirious with anticipation of speaking to someone who comprehends what I'm saying and appreciates me on a deeper level than "I Like You Cuz You Feed Me." It's also nice having someone contribute more to the conversation that "Waaaaaaaaah" or "Meeeeeehreooow".
One noteworthy thing that happened last week: Maddy was inaugurated as Super Student of the Week in her second grade class, the first student of the year to be picked. HECK YEAH. As a young, once-single mom, I feel like there's a bit of a stigma, so I'm prone to pushing Maddy academically because I have to overcompensate for the silent judgement I get from some of the other mothers. Maddy's school is teeming with affluent Stay At Home Moms, and a handful of them are Big Fat Bullies. So here's what I have to say to you, Condescending Mom Who Always Makes Me Feel Bad- SUCK IT. Your child? She wore a t-shirt with the periodic table of elements on picture day and my beloved bastard daughter still won Super Student. Go cry about it into your Starbucks Coffee with Seventeen Modifiers all the way to your kid's ballet class. Nyah-nyah-nya-nya-nyah. (Usually I'm not quite this... well, mean. Let this out-of-character rant, in my defense, serve as testament to the fact that this lady has it coming.)
In other, less estrogen-infused news (ok, there's an idea I'm gonna take off running with, ye be warned): Both the boys have birthdays this week. Brady turned the big Oh-Four over the weekend, and is extremely proud that he can now show off his age by doing this:
Chris won't reach official birthday boy status until Friday. Ah, it seems like only yesterday that I was affectionately referring to him as "22". We did have a BBQ on Sunday as the Pre-Party, and I can honestly say it was the most fun I've had in a long time. Chris had a blast, even though he doesn't remember the last part of it. It's a shame, really, because the most hilarious part of the evening was when Chris was coming back out to the backyard where everyone else was and slamming the sliding glass shut just hard enough for the lock to latch behind him. "Somebody locked me out!" he said, indignantly. "Nobody did, honey. We're all outside. You know how sometimes the slider locks when you shut it?" Chris then proceeded to knock on the glass. "Who, exactly, do you think is going to come unlock that for you? The baby?" "Someone locked me out, on purpose, and they're still in there. You know what, whoever you are? EFF YOU. Yeah, eeeeeeeeeeefffffffffffffffffffff yoooooooooooooooooooooooooooou!" (Complete with photographic evidence:)
All in all, it was a great day. We made not only a killer lunch, but a killer dinner as well. For the PM crowd, Chris grilled two whole chickens, a ton of shrimp, and an entire prime rib. My only job was to handle the side dish- roasted veggies. Delicious, scrumptious roasted veggies, that ummmmmmm, that sat whole and raw in the refrigerator because I didn't remember that I was in charge of cooking them until I was piling my dinner plate high with an array of protein. Ooops, my bad. This is why we can't seem to keep Vegetarian friends.
If you weren't there but wish you had been, here's your chance to live the action vicariously! Be thankful that you weren't there to witness firsthand my husband's proclivity to giving kidney punches to unsuspecting friends. Maybe it's not just the vegetarians that we're driving away, come to think of it.
So, I suppose saying that diddlydookins has been going on is a bit of an understatement. Usually a comment of that nature isn't followed by multiple paragraphs of rambly text. Hey, Keep Em Guessing, that's what I always say. Who am I kidding, I never say that- I always say "What's for dinner?"
Well, that and "SUCK IT!"