Technically Speaking

So yesterday was a big first--I sent my first text message of my life. First of all, as you may remember, I am old now. I am not part of the whole text messaging generation. Secondly, I don't get it. Why send a text when you can just call the person and talk to them? Or else send out an email, where you can type on a regular, normal-sized keyboard? See I'm not "hip" anymore. I've already reached boring mom status.

Anyway, yesterday Chris did not come home from work on time, and he had all the equipment for Parker's Little League team in the trunk of his car. Without all the bats, batting helmets, etc. the game was not going to happen. So I called him several times, and he didn't answer his phone. I tried instant messaging him, but he didn't respond. I knew he was probably in a meeting, and couldn't answer me. Then I remembered that the rest of the world knew how to do a little something called "texting." I, too, could learn this skill. So after only five minutes of messing around with my phone, I figured out how to send a text message. Then after another 5-10 minutes I was able to painstakingly type out my message. And here's the most amazing part--it worked! I'd spent thirty minutes trying to contact Chris, and within 30 seconds I got a response saying, "I'm coming."

So, um, I'm pretty cool, now that I can text. Also I learned something: You can teach an old dog a new trick. But maybe the old dog just wants to go back to lying around, not doing the new trick. Yes, yes, I think she does.

Morning: In Three Acts

Act I
Flash to groggy mother, waking up next to sick baby on couch, patting his back. "Oh, poor Deacon. You've sogged through your diaper."
Comprehension slowly dawns on groggy mother, "Wait a second. This isn't pee. And you're laying right next to me...."

Act II
Parker comes into mother's room with this happy smiling face, "Hey, mom I've got to tell you about my dream."
"O.k."
"I had a dream I was in the bathroom, going to the bathroom, and then I woke up."
"Oh."
"Now my sheets are wet. Isn't that weird?"
"Yes, weird...."

Act III
Deacon turns face, crying refusing to eat oatmeal. Mother removes baby from high chair and says, "You're probably not hungry. You don't feel well."
Immediately monkey child escapes from mother's arms, climbs up onto barrel of flour in pantry, and gets down a jar of baby food from high shelf.
"Ahh," says mother, comprehension dawning, "You didn't want oatmeal. You wanted carrots for breakfast."
Baby eagerly eats entire jar of carrots. Then as mother removes child from high chair to wash hands and face, he proceeds to vomit entire jar of carrots all over his mother.
"Hmm," thinks the mother, "my original assessment was right...."

Epilogue
Mother spends day doing five loads of laundry.

The End.

Who Needs Toys?

Monday is laundry day at our house. So I have a week's worth of our family's laundry all over the floor. I went upstairs to change Deacon's diaper, and when I came back down a little later, McKay came running up to me.

"I have the cutest little babies!" she told me, holding up a single serving size Crystal Light tube.

"This is a baby?"

"Yes, and I have a lot more!"

Her babies were silverware, jello boxes, and more Crystal Light. "And I wrapped them up in cuddly little blankies!"

Her blankies? The dirty laundry. Parker's dirty socks seemed to make great sleeping bags for Crystal Light. The best? Watching her walk around holding her "baby" box of jello, cradled in her arms, wrapped tightly in a pair of Parker's dirty underwear.

Lunch with McKay

I called McKay up to the table for lunch. "O.k. I'm coming, but I'm not regular McKay, I'm tiger McKay."

I started to say the prayer, and halfway through she interrupted in a whisper, "I'm back to regular McKay."

So we ate in silence for a few minutes, and then she said, "Today is the best day in my whole entire life!"

Puzzled, since today has seemed pretty ordinary, I asked, "Why is that?"

"Because I'm eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of water!"

Happy Easter

After a fun Easter egg hunt at my parents' house, Parker sat down at the table to gorge himself on Easter candy. After awhile of quiet eating, he looked up from where he sat surrounded by opened eggs and candy wrappers and said, "I just can't do it anymore." He got up, got a drink of water, and went and played with toys.

Garden Helpers

"Hey mom can we help plant the flowers?"

Note to children: Remove flowers from pots before planting.

Decrepit Old Kodie

Some of you may have realized that I just had a birthday this past week, making me the very old age of 29. Now, don't say as my mother does, "If you're old, what does that make me?" It makes you the mother of a woman who is past her youth. If you're my friend, then hate to break it to you, you are getting old along with me. Thank you to Riki who sent me a birthday card that reads, "You are the perfect age......Not dead."

Now that I have criticized everyone, on with the blog. I decided to use my birthday money (thank you family) to buy a swimsuit that covered even more of my 29 year old body than my old one did. Consequently, the day after buying said swimsuit, I decided to embark on an exercise and fake tan regime. Tonight I was dancing to the "Fat Burning Dance Party" DVD, when Parker remarked, "Those girls are a lot younger than you."
"Yes, I know."
"They're probably in college."
"Uh-huh."
"That's why they dance better than you. Young girls are way better dancers than old girls."

Ahh, 29 here we come.