I knew it.
I called this the day we got the sonogram confirmation that our second child was another boy. I could see this coming, and honestly, I’m a little surprised it took this long.
This morning Frank proudly declared it a “naked day” when he emerged from the bathroom…. in the nude. Jammies in hand. All last week it was Bob who started the party, but today it was my eldest.
God help me.
I was sitting here in my blue chair and every once in a while, he would walk by me, muttering to himself things like, “I’ll have a fuzzy navel” and lyrics from Hamilton. He reminds me often how he’s “past patiently waiting”, how he’s going to “RISE UP!!” and how he’s, “a diamond in the rough. A shiny piece of coal, unimpeachable.” He requests for me to play “dat shot song” 43 times a day and can basically rap the entire thing, but who’s keeping track.
My theater background is beaming with pride right now. Frank often sings to Bob from Dear Theodosia, (or as Bob calls it, “dat one about da babies”) “Pride is not the word I’m looking for… There is so much more inside me now!”
If you have no idea what I’m talking about, do yourself a favor and YouTube both songs. Better yet, here they are:
Back to the issue at hand. The one that I have been fearing the last 4 years… I am been surrounded by peni. (That’s the plural form, right?)
Regis and Frijole.
Melman. Blaze and Thomas.
The men in the house.
I never really stood a chance.
Bob is zero to one hundred. He’s either handing me his lion costume, (“You put dis on me, mommy.”) or he’s streaking through the house, slam dunking his diaper into the garbage can.
The main problem here is that Bob refuses to potty train. Flat out refuses.
“Bob, don’t you wanna go on the toilet?”
It’s not even a discussion he’s willing to have. The child carries a towel around with him to make sure he wipes up his pee wherever he goes.
This week I wanted to blog about gratitude.
I’m grateful my children have clothes. I’m even more grateful when they wear them.
I’m grateful there’s never a dull moment. This morning Bob decided to resurrect his leash.
He brought it out from the back of his closet, shoved it into my lap and said, “you put dis yeesh on me, mommy.”
Frank “walked” Bob around the house for about 10 minutes.
It’s the little things in life. Two weeks ago, I decided to get nails, and this happened.
I have decided that in my pursuit of going “all in” with my writing that I need to be blogging once a week, as well as finally starting a rough draft of the book I’ve always wanted to write. I texted my friend Niki that I need to write the dang thing so it can start getting rejected by publishers.
Last week my reasons I didn’t blog were two-fold:
1: I had the worst congestion ever and my headache was blindingly painful. All the post would have consisted of would have been things like this: GAH!!! IT HURTS!!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!! WHY ISN’T THE BENADRYL WORKING?!?!!? HELPPPPP!!!!!! MY EYES!!! WHY ARE MY EYES IN PAIN?! THE PRESSURE. IT’S TOO MUCH. KILL ME NOW.
Which in hindsight could have been quite comical. I’ll remember that for the next time I’m feeling gross.
2: My damn nails were so long I couldn’t type.
I needed to justify spending money on them, so I suffered through 2 weeks of the most impractical manicure I’ve ever had.
I couldn’t do normal, real life things. I couldn’t unbuckle Bob out of his car seat. I used my keys to jam into the button to release him. Every time I did it, I said underneath my breath, “these damn nails!!!!!”
That was the recurring phrase out of my mouth the last two weeks.
Video Update: not only was Bob’s poop lodged in them several times, so was the cat food, chicken poop, avocado (how does one add avocado to anything without getting absolutely covered in the stuff, ridiculous nails aside?!?!?), taco beef, and various other substances. Not all at the same time, mind you. I do have SOME limits.
Yesterday was the DAY. I decided 2 weeks of them was long enough to justify the $$, and I went back in to say I needed an eyebrow wax and dip. Not only did I get a wonderful set of nails that I am typing with RIGHT NOW!!!! (Praise the good Lord!), the sweetest little old man in the world did them for me. He asked me the following questions. No more, no less:
1: Do you have this week off?
2: What are you doing for Thanksgiving?
3: Why are your pinky nails so small?
……………Aren’t everyone’s pinkies small?!
He sees about 87 pinkies a day. I just…
Fast forward to the eyebrow wax. Girl comes in, swinging hot wax all over Kingdom Come and goes, “Oops, it is too hot?”
It’s fine, my face has 3rd degree burns, but it’s fine.
I seriously have no clue how she did it. She literally smeared wax all over my face and I thought, surely my eyebrows are no more…. There is no earthly way I still have eyebrows. She’s not using even the slightest bit of attention, I have zero hair above my eyeballs. Why is this wax so freaking hot?! I need to go straight to the ER. The wax!!!! It burns!!!!! It is literally like hot coals on my forehead. Only to have her hold up a mirror to PERFECTLY SHAPED EYEBROWS.
No one knows.
Third thing that happened for which I am still extremely grateful.
The nails!!! 😂🤦♀️
Chip was out hunting for the weekend, so I seized the opportunity to make some experimental meals. I LOVE RAW FISH. I can’t get enough of the stuff. I googled, “where do I buy sushi grade fish in Dallas”, and the #1 place, complete with rave reviews, was Cap’n Dave’s Seafood Market. What sealed the deal was that it wasn’t “Captain Dave’s”…. It’s Cap’n. Aye, Aye!!
**insert salute here*
I spent about a half hour gabbing away with none other than the Cap’n himself, along with his right-hand man. When I was introduced to Dave, I said, “Of COURSE you’re the Cap’n. I would have expected nothing else. You look like a true, seafaring fellow!”
Maybe the best part of all of this…. When I told Chip this story, I made him tell me what he thought Cap’n Dave looks like. He said, “I’m thinking either Santa…. Or, wait. No. The captain from Titanic.”
That response right there. That’s why I love that man. Also, his smile.
Final ridiculous thing for which I am grateful.
The mini fridge.
I had to go to the Chevy dealership because my truck had about a billion recalls over the past 5 years. I’m not mentioning names, but we all know who I got the truck from, so yeah.
I had Cap’n Dave’s raw fish with me and I was starting to stress, as Thursday was a warm day. I spent a small fortune on said fish and I didn’t want it to go bad!! As I walked around the waiting Lounge, I was fortunate enough to discover the little complimentary water fridge. I stuck in the bag of fish.
Before you judge, tell me you wouldn’t have done the same!
Heartfelt apologies to anyone at Lakeside Chevy in Rockwall whose water tasted like smoked crab dip, ahi tuna or Canadian Salmon. My hands were tied.
In all seriousness, I’m going into Thanksgiving with an incredibly grateful heart. 2020, man. I’m not going to make this deep or reverent. Because honestly all I really wanted was to relay a couple relatable, funny stories….. and maybe sing a little Hamilton with my 5-year-old while we’re at it.
Cheers and Happy Thanksgiving.