Things I Love Because I'm a Mom. (Of many)

I love that Netflix just starts the next episode automatically, because there are some moments when I'm so tired I can't be bothered to even move my finger. Thanks, Netflix, for mustering that LAAAAAAST bit of energy when all I can do is whimper.

I love Sonic because they have corndogs. But you know what else they have? Shots of caffeine to add to any drink you order. They get me. They get that I live in Texas, where it is sometimes hotter than, well, anything. They get that it's just plain kind to offer caffeine in everything.

I love Pinterest. Mostly because I am just too damn tired to come up with anything to better my life. Thanks, Pinterest, for making us all look like winners.

I love velcro and 3M strips. So much. Velcro shoes, velcro cable straps, 3M strips for hanging even the unhangable. America. That's America.

Breakfast cereal.

Flavored quick-dissolve melatonin. Yesssss.

Who am I kidding? Flavored quick dissolve everything.

Smartphones. How did mothers stay sane before smart phones?!? No wonder generations past drank and smoked so much. Not like they had My Singing Monsters to love them back, right?

I'm done here. If I can't be bothered to hit "next episode" on Netflix, I sure as heck can't be bothered to keep typing.

Max is scared.

Max is scared of scary things and not scary things.

He is scared of big things and little things. He is scared of quiet things and loud things. He is scared of things he knows he's scared of, and things that he doesn't know he's scared of. He's scared of 100% of the unknown, and 75% of the known.

Toilets. Rubber snakes. Real snakes. Car washes. Thunder. Rain. Lightning. Alive bugs. Dead bugs. Bugs who might die soon. Cars. Scooters that are moving. Scooters that are not moving. Holes. Darkness. The word "spider." Spiders that aren't just words. Paper crumpled into scary shapes. Shadows. Wind. Turning left. Anything Miles finds fun. Dogs. Cats. Animals with beating hearts. Pictures of animals. Bunnies. Fish. Climbing. Sunlight. McDonald's PlayPlace. Lint. (Because Lint looks like bugs.) Jumping too high. Kisses. Life. All of it.

When Max gets scared, he screams a scream unlike any scream in the entire world. Tonight he was washing his hands in the powder room and the door was closed and the toilet began running, and he FREAKED. The scream said, "I've been electrocuted by a leech that stuck it's leechy head out of the outlet." We ran as fast as we've ever run before and once we figured out it was the Fear Scream, our hearts returned to normal and we managed to pry him off Daddy's chest.

Somehow, even with his North Pole-sized list of fears, Max is the adrenaline junkie. I can't figure out if his adrenaline is kept in a constant a state of motion due to his fears, or if screaming in terror is just another way to feel the rush. He's the maniac of the two who's always running faster, hitting harder, screaming louder, laughing longer, and Miles is his faithful companion. What's crazy is how much Miles comforts him and works SO hard to make Max feel safe, even at 2.5. If Max is stuck in fear at the top of the PlayPlace, Miles hugs him until rescuers arrive. If Max is paralyzed next to the sandbox due to a potential bug sighting, Miles is running for Mama faster than Max can react. If Max is screaming in front of a rubber snake, Miles is the one dangling it in front of him. Brothers make the man, they say. Max is so afraid of rubber snakes that the kids actually beg me to buy them so they can "see if he's still scared." Mmmm hmmm.

Someday he won't be afraid of the toilet, or rubber snakes, or lint. But I won't get to hold him on my lap and cuddle it all away, either. Fear on, Max. Fear on.

Guys, I hate to put this here.

Can I be real for a second?

Sunday donuts are pretty much what we live for all week. If you're decently behaved in Mass, donuts! Some say "church voice," my kids use their "donut voice." I wish I were kidding.

So the donut shop we went to today was voted 2015 "Best Donut" by the entire town. That gives you pause, doesn't it? We're about to hit Donut Jackpot. They even have a drive-thru! I order a dozen. Six chocolate glazed, two maple, four glazed. I also order two kolaches because if you to a place that makes kolaches and you don't buy those kolaches, you're at risk of losing your Texas residency and that's a risk I'm not willing to take. 

So she's super friendly and hands me a box that is...about 12x7x4. If you like donuts, you've already realized the problem. Read no further, comrade.

Here is the problem. These donuts are being handed to me on their sides, donut bottom touching donut glaze. WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON, HERE!?! The world is tilting on it's axis, and my precious donut glaze is going to be hitting someone else's lips. SOMEONE who had to be freaking reminded to use their donut voice in Mass. They don't deserve my glaze, and no donut deserves that kind of disrespect.

And as for you, small town residents, how can I ever trust you again? If I go looking for the best taco in town, where am I going to end up?! Taco Bell?!

Things I hear in the car.

Molly: aloha, amigos! Don't you love hearing me speak French?
Lucy: actually, that's not french at all.
Mo: no?
Lucy: no. Amigos is spanish, and aloha is mexican.

Lucy: mommy, would you like to hear the story of my drawing?
Me: yes!
Lucy: this is a picture of a broken picture frame. It's kind of sad. A long time ago in the 1980's there was a house and this frame hung on the walls in it. But then it crumbled with time, and they invented cars, and new houses were built in its place, and all that was left was this broken frame.
Me: wow.
Lucy: everything has a story.

Let me just catch you up real quick.

1) lucy? She's good. Reading like crazy, still not sure about her new school but giving it a decent shot. Is swimming pretty well, but aspires only to be "okay and good enough to not drown." She feels that way about almost everything. Mediocre is the new perfect! She makes up for her apathy with loads of charm.

2) molly is, as usual, doing fine. 6.5 now, swimming like crazy, but by "crazy" I actually mean she looks like a total weirdo in the pool. Completely graceless and awkward, but she has a blast. She swims underwater just great and while it's not pretty to watch, she gets the job done. Mo loves to help around the house and is really a considerate kid.

3) claire is turning the entire world on it's ear and nobody seems to be concerned. Claire also learned to swim this summer and she looks like a little water sprite. She's comfortable, adorable and super fun to watch. Pretty sure she was born with flippers. Claire is working on her vocabulary and only uses words that sound hilarious when she pronounces them wrong. Words like, "exponsibility" and "verdifying."

4) Max? Max is charming, snuggly, handsome and completely likeable. He hates bugs and snakes and totally owns it. He basically lives to eat goldfish and love his brother.

5) you know, the brother who is definitely most undeserving in the love and adoration department. Miles is a nightmare these days. So much so that it's almost laughable. It seems that identical twins go through phases and sort of trade off in the personality department. Right now, Miles is trying on "utterly horrid" and it's a pretty good look on him! He's 100% willful and beastly, 200% physically abusive and manipulating, 75% disobedient and 157% devious and calculating. I'll be happy to get my amazing miles back in the coming days. For about 2 minutes a day my old miles surfaces and does something sweet, and I have hope. But then he bites someone or punches somebody and I'm all, "oh look, there's square one. Pretty sure we're supposed to be over in that one."

Now, I have to go. Miles dumped a bottle gold bond powder all over the living room and is using air freshener to clean it up. Fail.

You picked a fine time to leave me...

So I have mostly left Facebook. Why? Because it's a soul-sucking abyss.

Interestingly enough, no one has inquired after me or wondered why I am not there. Because Facebook is a soul-sucking abyss.

Will they check my blog? Maybe? Probably not. It's not as if I've blogged more than three times this year. I didn't feel the need to be heard, as resident court jester of Facebook.

I wonder how long it will take before they realize I'm gone. I wonder how long it will take before I no longer care what they think.